


Our Little Universe

by alex8andre



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Beloved, Cologne, Dinner, Essay, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Froyo, Fusion, Future Vision, Indian food, Kisses, Picnic, Romance, Shooting Stars, Training, Vision - Freeform, blanket fort, dance, dream - Freeform, meteor shower, nap, recital, school visit, soft hair, test
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex8andre/pseuds/alex8andre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots following Steven and Connie as they fall in love. // "May I have this dance?" Steven and Connie go to the school dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "You're really soft."

A/N: Thanks so much for clicking here! I really hope you enjoy these short stories. These are oneshots based on a prompt of phrases I found on tumblr. While different plots, they do fit together in a timeline. Please enjoy! And please, if you can, let me know that you have enjoyed it! And constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thanks again and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

  **“You’re really soft.”**

* * *

Peridot screeched in excitement as each being took a seat around the television. “Yes, yes! Pearl, you sit there. Garnet, can you move slightly? No, no, the _other_ way! Oh, yes, yes! It’s so _soon!_ ”

In the kitchen, Connie brought her hand to her lips to hide her giggle. She stepped closer to Steven as he clumsily poured the entire bag of chips into a large bowl. “Peridot,” she said, “sure is excited.”

“She really loves _Camp Pining Hearts._ She’s excited to share it with us, too,” he replied before licking his fingers clean.

“No, no, _no!_ Amethyst, that is _my_ spot! You sit there! Steven and the Connie, you sit on the couch, next to me.”

“Perfect!” Steven exclaimed as he sat in the middle of the couch beside Garnet. He placed the bowl of chips on his lap and shouted, “Who’s hungry?”

Amethyst laid herself at his feet and immediately took a large handful of chips. Connie sat beside him, closely as to leave comfortable space for Peridot, who still marched around in her excitement.

“And this is the one with that guy actor?” Pearl asked as she sat down on a chair, trying her best to muster any enthusiasm for the show that she could. Lapis sat casually in the chair beside Pearl with her legs thrown against one arm rest and her back against the other.

Peridot didn’t even have an answer to Pearl’s vague question.

When the show started, Peridot shushed everyone as she bounded to her seat. Everyone gave their full attention to the television, knowing how important the teen drama was to Peridot. As the episode went on, however, dynamics changed. Peridot had moved from the couch to the closest position to the tv without completely blocking the way. Pearl still sat up straight, but her wandering eyes made it clear that her mind was preoccupied. Lapis had pulled a cap over her eyes to take a nap. Garnet had fallen deeper into the couch in complete relaxation. Amethyst had taken over snack duty and kept the bowl rested on her stomach as she continued taking handfuls of the snack.

Connie and Steven subconsciously had made more room for Garnet by scooting to Peridot’s former spot and remaining even closer to one another than before. They leaned deep into the couch, comfortable, leaving no space between themselves. Her shoulder connected to his, her side connected to his, her leg pressed against his. When he finally noted their closeness, he could feel both a flush rushing his cheeks and a sense of comfort that filled his chest with warmth.

She still watched the show, intrigued in her own way, when she flipped back her hair to get it behind her. Her hair hit his face, and he let out a chuckle in protest. Her hair tickled his ear and neck.

“Sorry, Steven,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back. He grasped her dark strands with the intention of removing the tickling sensation.

 _Whoa,_ he thought as he moved her hair just enough to stop the tickling sensation on his face, _her hair is so…soft!_ _It’s like touching a cloud, or a really furry kitten, or, or, or cotton candy._

His hand slowly slid to the ends of her hair, and he held the end of her strands between his fingers. His gently rubbed the ends of her hair between his fingers.

 _I can’t believe how soft her hair is,_ he thought in complete awe. Her hair felt so different from his own coarse curls. _I’m not surprised, though. Of course she’d have soft hair!_ She smelled nice, her clothes were always soft and clean, and her personality too was so sweet, naturally she’d have the softest hair he had ever felt.

He felt no passage of time, just the cloud between his rubbing fingertips.

“ _Steven,_ ” Connie suddenly hissed at him. She brought him out of his trance.

He blinked. “What?” He whispered.

“What are you doing?” She asked as her eyes pointed to his fingertips rubbing her hair, and her face grew flush.

A deep blush overtook his face as he smiled. “Sorry. You’re just, you’re really soft.”

Her flushed face turned into an even deeper red that overtook her entire face. Her eyes grew wide, and her lips drew into a straight line. Her horrified expression made his stomach churn with regret.

“ _Steven!_ ” Peridot cried, making his attention shift towards the direction of the gem and the tv. She continued with gritted teeth, “Pay attention!” She snapped her attention back to the tv just as quickly as it had been on Steven.

He remembered Connie’s face, and he feared looking at her. He instead looked down at his twiddling fingers. He leaned slightly closer to her, only so that his whisper would carry to just her, and said, “I’m sorry, Connie.”

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, looking at him.

His gaze stayed low.

She felt remorse herself and wanted to cheer him up. She leaned into his side, and she brought her face close to his to catch his gaze.

They locked eyes.

She smiled at him. “I know I have _great_ hair.”

Her hand whipped her hair in his face, and he giggled. She giggled with him, and the pair couldn’t control their laughter even when Peridot threatened to kill them if they didn’t shut up.


	2. "You smell nice."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You smell nice." Steven wears cologne to Connie's violin recital.

A/N: Thanks so much for clicking! I hope you enjoy the next installment. Once again, please enjoy! Please let me know if you've enjoyed! Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thanks again, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

  **“You Smell Nice.”**

* * *

 “Bye, Connie!” Steven called, leaning his body out of the van’s window and waving wildly.

Despite Steven having already told her goodbye multiple times, Connie still turned around from her front door to smile and wave before she went inside her home.

“Bye!” Steven called again to a closed door before he sat himself down in the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

Greg drove the van away as he said, “You and Connie have been spending a lot of time together.” Realizing that his comment might have come off wrong, he added, “It’s great the Maheswarans are letting her come over a lot more.”

“Uh-huh,” Steven said as he watched his swinging feet click together. “They really like that Pearl is teaching her sword fighting. They’re even gonna enroll her in some fencing classes. They think it’ll be good for college. Get her some scholarships.”

“I see,” Greg responded.

After a moment of silence, Steven blurted out, “Oh! Dad! Connie invited all of us to her violin recital!”

Greg smiled. “That sounds great. I can’t wait.”

“It’s Friday – or Saturday. It’s at night! I think maybe…8? It’s at the Recital Hall!”

“Which one?”

“Uh…the big – one?”

“Oh.”

Steven chuckled sheepishly. “I’ll get the details again and write them down. Anyway, Connie says we have to look nice. Not fancy-shmancy, but, like, approachable. Dad! You should wear that blue shirt!”

Greg’s eyebrows laced together. “Huh. I wonder where it is.” He turned to Steven with a smile. “Don’t worry, though! I’ll find it – and probably wash it…but then wear it!”

The rest of the drive to the Temple held light conversation, each asking the other to explain how their day went, and music playing lightly in the background.

When the car stopped by the Temple, Steven unclicked his seatbelt and opened his mouth to thank his dad for driving.

“Hang on a second, Steven,” Greg said before leaning between the chairs into the backseat.

Steven frowned in concern, slightly nervous about why his dad stopped him.

Greg popped back up with a small box duct taped closed. “Here,” he said, handing it to Steven, “this is for you.”

“For me?” Steven asked, looking over the box in awe. “But it’s not my birthday!”

“I know, I know,” Greg laughed. “But I thought it was time I give you this.”

Steven opened the box as quickly as he could. He pulled out a half-filled bottle of cologne. He gasped and inspected the bottle closely. “Thanks, dad!”

“You’re welcome, son.” Greg took a deep breath. “You know, that is the same cologne I wore around your mother.”

Steven gasped. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah! Dates, hang-outs – the first time I met her, too. I thought you should have it.”

Steven’s mouth fell open. “Thanks, dad!”

“Go on,” Greg said, his son’s excitement bringing a large smile to his own face. “See if you like it.”

Steven held the bottle up to his neck and pushed the cap repeatedly.

“Whoa!” Greg said, grabbing the bottle from Steven. “Slow down there, squirt. This stuff is strong.”

Steven blushed his embarrassment and folded his face into his shoulder. He sniffed his shoulder and then the air. “Wow! This smells amazing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Steven then gasped. “I can wear this to Connie’s recital! She’ll love it!”

Greg’s gaze filled with fondness. He said with a smirk, “I think you’re right.”

 

 

Steven connected the last button on his pink shirt.

“There,” he muttered to himself. He pulled down the shirt and looked himself over in the mirror. He nodded to his reflection. “I look rather handsome, if I do say so myself.”

He heard a car honk.

“Oh!” Pearl said, throwing her hands to her cheeks. “That’s Greg.” She cupped her hand to her mouth. “Amethyst! Garnet! Steven! It’s time to leave!”

“Coming!” Steven called. He looked at himself in the mirror once more, nodded in approval, and followed the Crystal Gems out the door.

“Shot gun!” Amethyst called. She ran towards the van, laughing.

“Amethyst!” Pearl criticized, but she understood the rule of calling shotgun, and she grumbled as she got into the backseat beside Garnet.

Steven sat down next to Pearl and shut the door.

“Buckle up, everyone!” Greg instructed and then blushed, feeling embarrassed that he sounded fatherly towards three beings who were thousands of years older than him. They obeyed him anyhow.

After a light chuckle, Greg asked, “Are we all set?” He put the car into drive.

Steven scratched his nose as he looked at the scenery moving out the window. He gasped loudly and shouted, “Dad! Wait! Stop!”

Greg slammed his foot on the brake.

Steven ignored the chorus of questions as he unclicked his seatbelt, opened the door, and ran back into his house. He ran into the bathroom and pulled out the bottle of cologne from the shelf. He remembered his father’s words last time, and he spritzed his neck twice with the scent.

When he returned to the van, the questions and criticisms stopped when his scent wafted through the van.

“Dang, Steven!” Amethyst laughed. “You smelled _good._ ”

 

 

Doug Maheswaran met them in the recital hall’s lobby. He looked slightly embarrassed to be seen with them, especially as people gave the group weird glances, but he expressed his happiness that they arrived. “Priyanka is holding our seats.”

“Hmm,” Pearl muttered, looking around, “I feel slightly underdressed.”

“Where’s the concessions stand?” Amethyst asked a little too loudly.

“ _Amethyst,_ ” Pearl hissed.

The group followed Doug in a nearly straight line into the auditorium. Steven’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open as he marveled at the fanciness of the recital hall. He grabbed Greg’s sleeve and said, “Connie must be incredible to be playing _here!_ ”

Greg looked around quickly before smiling and patting his son’s head.

Doug found Priyanka, and the group arranged themselves so the adults sitting at the end and Steven sat among the gems.

“Steven,” Garnet said, snapping Steven’s gaze away from design of the recital hall. “Have you heard Connie play before?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah! Sometimes we have jam sessions. She’s great!”

A hush fell over the auditorium as the lights dimmed. A quiet gasp came from Steven as his attention immediately hit the stage, scanning for Connie.

“What’s happening?” Amethyst asked a little too loudly.

“ _Shh! Amethyst, it’s starting,”_ Pearl whispered harshly.

A line of children dressed in black walked onto the stage and into their seats.

“Why are they all wearing black?” Amethyst loud voice rang. “It’s so drab!”

“ _Amethyst, you stay quiet right now_ ,” Pearl’s whispered with gritted teeth.

When Steven saw Connie, he gasped loudly and covered his mouth with his hands to keep himself from calling her name.

After she sat down and readied her violin, she looked out into the audience for familiar faces. She locked eyes with Steven.

He kept his arm low but waved.

She smiled at him, and a light blush rushed to her face.

After a few moments, the conductor led the performers, and music filled the auditorium.

Steven couldn’t distinguish Connie’s violin amongst the other violins, but he kept his wide eyes on her every movement. Her foot tapped the tempo. Her body leaned into her instrument. Her bow flew dramatically away from her body each time her part ended. Her lips pursed in concentration.

“She’s amazing,” Steven breathed. He didn’t know that both Garnet and Pearl overheard him, shared a look with one another, then smiled fondly at him.

After a few sets had finished, Connie suddenly stood up and walked center stage.

Steven gasped, clasping his hands to his cheeks. He whispered, “Connie has a solo?”

She stood, her violin near the microphone. She took a deep breath, smiled out into the audience, and played her piece accompanied by a piano.

Steven thought she sounded absolutely beautifully.

 

 

When the recital finished, Steven wanted to rush to Connie. The parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends in the audience had the same idea about their own children, and the auditorium became backed-up.

“Ugh!” Steven groaned, looking the situation over. “I need to see Connie right now!”

Amethyst smirked at him.

Pearl caught this and shouted, “Amethyst, no!”

Amethyst didn’t listen. She picked up Steven and threw him to the front of the auditorium, towards the stage. He flew through the air, slightly perplexed on how he ended up there in the first place, and landed on the stage with a _thump._

He stood up, rubbed his rear-end, and looked around for Connie. He found her standing off to the side, alone, rubbing her arm and keeping her eyes downcast.

“Con - ” Steven started, then he covered his mouth with his hands. He decided it would be better to surprise her. He exited the stage as quietly as he could, with tiptoes and light breathing, alerting many people of his presence but thankfully not Connie. By the time he stood behind her, she had slipped closer to the corner and away from the crowd.

Steven threw his arms around her shoulders and put his cheek to hers. “Connie!”

She stepped back in surprise, off-balanced, and gasped. When she realized it was Steven giggling into her ear, she put her hands on his arms. “Steven!”

When he let her go, she turned around and grasped his hands. She asked, “How was I – ”

He answered before the words had fully left her mouth. “You were _incredible!_ ”

“Really?” She asked, tipping her head down and blushing.

“Are you kidding me?” Steven laughed, pulling her into a hug. “You were amazing!”

She giggled into his ear. “Thanks, Steven.”

When he let go and she pulled away, she was blushing and her eyes were wide.

“Connie? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” She said quickly. Her voice lowered. “You just…you smell nice.”

He blushed. “Thank you. My dad gave it to me – I like it.”

Her own blush deepened. “Me, too.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes matching his and then darting away.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I should wear it more often? Since we both like it.”

She nodded. “That sounds nice.”

The Gems and adults made it to where Connie and Steven stood, and each took a moment to congratulate Connie.

“Hey!” Greg said. “Let’s keep this party going!”

“Yeah!” Amethyst and Steven cheered.

Doug cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh,” Greg blushed. “I just meant we should go out for ice cream or something.”

“Yeah!” Amethyst yelled.

“Ice cream!” Steven exclaimed.

“Can we, Mom?” Connie asked.

“ _Ice cream?_ ” Priyanka said with her eyebrows knit together.

Connie felt bad for even asking. She tried again, “What about froyo?”

“This late?” Priyanka shook her head.

Doug leaned into her side and said softly, “Tonight should be fine.”

Priyanka stayed silent for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

“Yeah!” Connie and Steven started cheering. “Froyo! Froyo! Froyo!”

Connie stopped, gasping. “Mom! Can Steven come with us?” She looked to Steven to see if he too liked the idea.

His eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I, Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran? I’ll be on my best behavior!” He repeated the phrase his father told him on the few cases he spent with the Maheswarans.

Priyanka looked away in thought for a moment before nodding.

It took some time to get the group out of the auditorium, what with the children (and Amethyst) cheering and people crowding. Eventually, though, Steven and Connie squeezed together into the Maheswaran car and the gems squished with Greg into his Universe-van.

Priyanka constantly added instructions to Connie. “Connie, get your seatbelt on,” and “Connie, use your inside voice,” and, once the car left the recital’s parking lot, “Connie, you will get the smallest cup of froyo, _and_ you will get vanilla – and only vanilla – _and_ you may only have fruit for your toppings.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Connie replied, as she did to every instruction. She repeated to show she listened, “Smallest cup and only fruit.”

“And only vanilla.”

Connie nodded. “And only vanilla.” She fell silent for a moment before turning to Steven and speaking with a low voice, “You’ll love this place, Steven. It has _so_ many flavors to choose from! There’s chocolate, and fudge, cookies and cream, cheesecake – and _so_ many more. It’s so nice in there, too. The chairs are all orange – so are all the spoons. And there’s like a hundred toppings. There’s fudge and cereal and fruit and cookie bits – and like everything!”

Steven licked his lips. “It sounds great! How am I ever going to choose?”

“I’ll help you,” she giggled. She added, joking, “Or you could just get everything.”

He gasped. “Yeah!”

The car drove into the froyo parking lot after that. Connie opened the car door as soon as she heard the _click_ of the car put into park. Steven slid after her, and the pair bounded towards the shop.

“Connie! Wait for us!” Priyanka shouted from the car’s window.

Connie stopped so quickly, Steven bumped into her.

“Yes, ma’am!” Connie called to her mother then gave an apologetic look to Steven, who in turn showed his understanding by remaining close to her.

Greg’s van parked beside the Maheswaran car, and, after some time, the group, now together, walked into the froyo shop.

Pearl turned to Doug. “Your driving was fantastic, by the way. Very safe.”

Doug’s gaze shifted towards Pearl and away repeatedly, feeling slight unsure of how to take the supposed compliment, but he said anyway, “Oh, thank you.”

Steven followed close behind Connie. She led him to the cardboard cups – he picked the same bowl she did, the smallest one, by following her lead – and then to the froyo machines.

“Ta-da!” She said, holding out her hands.

Steven’s eyes sparkled. “Wow…there’s so many.” He read the signs aloud, his voice getting a little louder and happier with each flavor read: “Peanut butter. Cheesecake. Coffee. Birthday cake. Fudge brownie. Cookies and cream. Caramel. Cotton candy. Red velvet. Toasted marshmallow. Cherry. Mango. Lemon. Peach. Strawberry. Blueberry. And chocolate and vanilla. _And_ you can even combine flavors!”

“Well, _I_ know what I’m getting,” Connie said, rolling her eyes and motioning her head towards the _vanilla._ “What do you want, Steven?”

“I…” his voice lightly quavered. “I don’t know. There’s just so many.”

An idea came to Connie so quickly, she threw her hand onto his shoulder and gasped. “I’ll be right back.”

She left, searching for a worker, and found one behind the counter. She asked him for sample cups.

“How many?” He asked.

She blushed. “Um, a lot, I think.”

He blinked at her a moment before complying. She thanked him then rushed back to Steven – only to find him holding a different froyo bowl, the biggest froyo container, and filling it with the last flavor in the line of dispensers into his full bowl.

“Steven!” She gasped. “I was getting sample cups!”

He looked at her sheepishly. “Whoops.” He chuckled. “This is okay, though. Now I can _really_ try them all!”

“Oh, Steven,” she said fondly, her voice so sweet it made him blush. She shook her head teasingly, saying, “Come on, let’s go get toppings.” She turned around and took a step forward, Steven following right behind her, then suddenly stopped, Steven running into her back. She turned her head back to him and giggled, “I haven’t gotten mine yet.”

He grinned in response.

After she had filled her cup with the most vanilla yogurt she felt like she could get away with, she led Steven to the toppings. His surprise and excitement at the froyo flavors fell flat against his awe for the multitude of toppings. He looked down at his overflowing bowl.

“How can I possibly choose?”

She looked down at his bowl and wonder how he would even be able to fit a single chocolate chip. His question, however, seemed to be about choosing, so she humored him. “You could get a little bit of everything?”

His gasped explained it all: he thought it was a great idea, he thought it was possible, and he decided to do it. She followed behind him, watching, as he walked the toppings line. He picked a single topping out of each container and did his best to find a place for it in his froyo. Single pieces of chocolate and butterscotch chips, single pieces of oreos and brownie bits, single pieces of fruit loops and graham crackers, single pieces of strawberries, blueberries, and kiwis. He finished the masterpiece with one stripe of fudge, one stripe of caramel, and a dash of whipped cream, then held up his bowl to Connie in awe, saying, “Ta-da!”

“Well, you did it.”

Watching it melt, Steven quickly weighed the bowl and forked over the insane amount of money the everything-sundae was worth. Connie, who had filled up her bowl with fruit (“extra strawberries ‘cause they’re my favorite!” she said), paid after him.

He stepped out of line and spotted the guardians and parents sitting together at a table by the window. He noted that the number of adults meant no room was left at the table for himself and Connie.

After paying, she stepped behind him and noticed the same thing.

“Here,” Steven said, taking a step towards a table for two on the opposite side of the room.

The square white table with bright orange chairs was beside a fireplace, a blaze lightly burning.

“This is perfect,” Connie said, landing in her seat with a thump.

Steven moved a little more carefully, concerned with his melting over-filled froyo cup, but smiled up at her when he had seated, she taking the spoon out of her mouth after having already taken a bite of her dessert.

“Go on,” she said, her words muffled from froyo. “I want to know what this ultimate flavor combination tastes like.”

He chuckled, then picked up his orange spoon, dug into the dessert, and took a bite. He stayed silent.

“Well?” She asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Hmmm,” he muttered, then smacked his lips together. “This bite tastes like coffee and strawberry with a waffle cone piece.”

“You can tell the flavors?” She asked, grinning. “No way!”

“I can!” His eyebrows rose. “You wanna try?”

She looked over him, making sure her parents weren’t watching. She nodded timidly but her eyes sparkled from the excitement of rebellion.

“Close your eyes,” he said. When she complied, he scooped his spoon and fed her.

Her eyes opened, and her giggled almost made her spit out the frozen yogurt. He laughed alongside her and watched as she tried to eat quickly so she could to speak.

“I got the cherry!” She finally said.

He laughed, “Congrats! But the flavors!”

“Oh,” she brought her hand up to her mouth. “Peanut butter, definitely. Maybe peach? It could have been mango.”

“Correct!” Steven grinned.

“Steven!” She laughed. “There’s no way you could possibly know if I’m correct!”

“Oh, I know,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes playfully, saying, “Okay, your turn.”

He handed her the spoon and slid the cup towards her. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth with an “ahhhhhhhh” sound. He waited. Finally, the biggest scoop of froyo entered his mouth. He closed his mouth, froyo sliding down from the sides of his lips and down his chin. He wanted to laugh, but it only made things worse. Connie laughed so hard, tears formed at her eyes, and she rocked back and toward him in a rhythm in line with her laughter.

“Here,” she said, her laughter dying down into fond chuckles. She picked up a napkin and leaned over the table to Steven. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” She still chuckled, however.

Her nose floated inches away from his. Her thumb lay outside the napkin, her thumb stroking against his cheek each time she moved the napkin against the sides of his lips. Her lips were open, releasing the sweet sound of her giggles and her soft breath, both hitting his face gently.  Her hair glided over her shoulders, framing her face. The ends of her hair danced on the top of his hands, tickling his skin and reminding him of how soft her hair felt. She smelled sweet, too. He couldn’t place the scent, but it reminded him of flowers right after a spring rain.

“There,” she said smiling and nodding, signaling she felt proud of her completed work.

Her hand moved from his face – but that was all. She still remained close, her hair still danced against his hand, and she still smelled good.

He felt his cheeks growing warm, but he didn’t move either.

Her smile gently slipped away, creating a nervous line with her lips. She blushed, noticing his own sweet scent of cologne she had smelled earlier. It smelled sweeter now, stronger even, in that moment. She involuntarily took in a deeper breath through her nose and licked her lips.

He panicked. He thrusted his body forward, reaching out for the froyo cup – momentarily decreasing the distance between them, bringing his face quickly in her direction.

Her lips parted, and she sucked in a breath. Her head snapped back, only slightly, but otherwise she froze.

He kept his eyes on the carton, but his peripheral vision caught her surprise. With his index finger, he scooped up the small amount of whipped cream, along with a little bit of strawberry froyo and caramel syrup, and slid it on her nose.

She let out a surprised _oh,_ and her head moved slightly further away.

His stomach dropped, and his eyes scanned her face for a sign that she would laugh. She needed to laugh. He held his breath, waiting, refusing to be the one to break the short silence.

She laughed. It started as a light breath out, then a chuckle, growing into a loud howling laughter. He quickly joined in, skipping the slow build up and instead immediately laughing wildly.

“You got me back!” She laughed out, leaning back into her chair. She wiped a happily produced tear from her eye but forgot about the mess on her nose.

He looked at brown napkin she had used on him. He picked it up and leaned forward. “Let me make it even.” He wiped away the whipped cream on her nose, caught her eyes and smiled, then he quickly slid back into his seat, careful not to create another moment to which his panic could cause another action.

He moved so quickly, though, that the air moved around him. She smelled in his cologne, a smell so sweet it brought a blush to her face and giggle from her lips.

Greg called. “How are you two doing down there?”

Connie and Steven looked at his nearly-melted and soupy but still completely full cup of dessert.

“We’re almost done!” Steven called back, still keeping his head toward her, hoping his underselling would cause her to laugh.

It did, sending her into a fit of giggles. She ducked down her face and threw out her hand to touch his arm resting on the table.

 

 

He didn’t get to completely finish his cup. It became a soupy-warm concoction that was just too much quantity to eat. They continued their guessing game of flavors for as long as they could – but the mixture ended up becoming a flavor of its own. They played a new game next, where they excavated the dessert to find the buried toppings. They agreed Connie got to have every fruit piece, and Steven could eat all the fun toppings. They tried once again, after the toppings were all gone, to eat the melted yogurt because they didn’t want to waste it. The muddled taste wasn’t worth it.

“Next time, I’ll just eat it faster,” Steven said, pushing the cup away from himself.

She knew that speed hadn’t been the problem but proportions and that the real fix was just in using sample cups beforehand, but she stayed silent for his own benefit.

“You ready, Stu-ball?” Greg called. “Connie?”

“We’re ready,” Steven answered.

At the same time, Connie said, “Yes, sir.”

Steven picked up the soggy cup of cardboard. He walked towards the trash can. He slipped the orange spoon from the cup and threw the cup away. “Goodbye, dear friend.”

“Steven, the spoon,” Connie said, walking just behind him.

He held it up to his face and gazed at it fondly. “I’m gonna keep it. It’s such a nice color. And so I can always remember tonight.”

He turned his head to look at the girl who walked beside him, brushing her shoulder against his, and she smiled at him with rosy cheeks.  

Even so, when walking past the cashier, he hid the spoon by his side and kept his eyes downcast as he led everyone out of the shop.

The group stood outside, on the sidewalk, circled around unintentionally. They all knew final words and goodbyes were in order, yet no one really felt sure where to start.

“Thank you all so much for coming to my recital,” Connie said, her eyes glancing at every member. Her hands clasped together, and she looked rather shy.

“Of course,” Garnet said.

“Happy to!” Greg said.

“No, yeah, it was actually pretty cool,” Amethyst shrugged, smirking.

Pearl placed her hand on Connie’s shoulder momentarily, saying, “You did very well, Connie.”

Her face flushed and her smile bubbled over, she said, “Thanks, everyone.”

She looked at Steven – maybe because she kind of expected, or rather hoped, he had something to say next, anything really, but maybe a compliment, for his compliments were her favorite next to Pearl’s, but more possibly because it was just the next thing she always did. She would always end up looking at Steven.

His shoulders slightly shrugged, seeming to be at a loss for words. He breathed out, “You were incredible.”

Goodbyes would happen next, his words led into it. Each adult, albeit unintentionally by Steven’s family and utmost intentionally by Connie’s parents, watched the young pair. They could feel all eyes on them, and the air suddenly felt awkward. Both felt confused – Steven rubbing his arm and Connie looking upward – as to what was an appropriate goodbye when adults watched.

Greg and Garnet picked up on this almost simultaneously. They gave each other a side glance, agreeing immediately upon eye contact, and stepped into action. Garnet physically stepped in front of Doug and Priyanka, blocking their view, and asked them about Connie’s violin work-ethic. Greg spun around, making a big scene for Pearl and Amethyst who turned their bodies to face him. He rapid-fired questions, which were more or less answered by confused looks between the gems.

The pair then felt at ease.

Steven subconsciously took a step towards her. “Are you still coming to train with Pearl Saturday?”

Connie nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. So I’ll see you in two days.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “I’ll see you in two days.”

He hesitated for a moment. His first instinct was to hug his best friend, but the fear of her parents’ glare and the gems’ cheering crossed his mind. He also paused at the feeling of his burning cheeks and the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

The warm face and tickled stomach had always been symptoms for hanging around Connie, but they had grown much stronger. It caused his hesitation – but then she gave him a glimmer of hope: she put more weight on her forward foot, swaying just barely forward, and her shoulders inched back ever so slightly.

She was inviting him in.

He threw open his arm. He stepped forward and pressed his body against hers, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her even closer. Her hair felt like a cloud against his arms and against his cheek, and her scent reminded him of spring.

The second he was there, she scooped her arms under his shoulders, placing her hands on his back. His tight hold made her giggle into his ear, and his stomach tickled like the first hill on a rollercoaster, his favorite part of any ride.

She smelled his cologne again, a scent she realized she loved. It smelt crisp but sweet, strong but soothing, a scent she would expect from Steven. She didn’t like how it brought a deep blush into her cheeks, but she liked his scent even more in comparison.

She always pulled away first – she understood social-rules better than he did, and she knew the proper length of a hug – and now slowly stepped away from his pressing body, signaling it was unfortunately time for him to step back and for their embrace to end. He never really ever stepped too far back, however, and this time was no different as he removed his arms around her and just took a single step away, still remaining close to her.

“See you Saturday?” He asked.

She chuckled to herself, seeing as he already knew the answer. “See you Saturday.”

She turned her shoulders and stepped away, only to lean into his space a moment after and whisper, “You should wear your cologne then.”

She quickly walked away, her face a deep red.

“Yeah?” He asked, but she felt like she was too far away by then to answer.

She followed her parents to her car, and the family was quick to leave, while Steven’s slowly made their way to Greg’s van.

“Did you have a nice time, Stu-ball?” Greg asked, patting his son’s head affectionately.

“Sure did,” Steven answered. “Did you guys?”

Greg looked uneasy for a moment but quickly hid it with a smile. “It was fine, I’d say. Glad you had a good time, though.”

After a moment, Steven said, “We were right, dad.”

“Yeah?” Greg asked, looking down at his son. “What about?”

“Connie did really like the cologne.”


	3. "I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses." Connie complies.

A/N: Look at me trying to keep an update schedule! Here's hoping I can keep with it (and my writing stays up to par...). Thanks, everyone, for your support! I hope you like this next installment. Let me know if you enjoyed it! Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thanks again, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

  **"I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses."**

* * *

 The warp pad’s white light brightly lit the room, and the whoosh of its return echoed against the walls.

Pearl’s voice held steady, starting before the warp’s sound ended. Her body stood forward, her chin pointed out, and her hands clasped behind her back. “You did well today, Connie.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” she looked up to Pearl, attempting to hide her smile. She tried to hide her still-heavy breathing. She did her best to wipe the sweat glistening from her forehead with her forearm but only managed to mix her arm sweat with her forehead sweat.

“We do need to continue on your speed, however,” Pearl lips pursed. “But I suppose that will just come with time.”

“I understand, ma’am,” Connie stretched taller, her chin pointing up at Pearl. “Would you like me to do a few sprinting exercises now?”

“No, no,” Pearl’s eyes glanced out the window, noting the sun. “We’ve done enough for the day. You deserve a break. Besides,” she smirked down at Connie, “Steven should be here any minute.”

Connie glanced at the door, unable to hide her excitement, then back at Pearl. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The two stepped off the pad, and, not a moment afterwards, its light and harmonic sound fluttered into the room. Garnet appeared.

“Garnet!” Pearl said. “Your mission was a success?”

“As always,” Garnet said, stepping off the warp pad and walking to Connie. She placed a gentle hand on Connie’s head and asked her, “Was your training, too, a success?”

Connie giggled at the affection the gem gave her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Garnet smiled down at the girl then glanced around the house. “Steven’s not back from Greg’s yet?”

“It doesn’t appear so,” Pearl answered.

A moment later, the temple door opened, and Amethyst slumped out, yawning and stretching her arms.

“Amethyst!” Pearl scolded. “Did you just wake up _now_?”

Amethyst glared. “From my afternoon nap.”

Pearl grumbled under her breath as she made her way to the kitchen to tidy it up.

Amethyst just ignored Pearl as she plumped down on the counter. She looked around and asked, “Steven’s not back yet?”

“Soon,” Garnet said, adjusting her glasses and walking over to stand near the door.

The group paused and stared at the door, half-expecting Steven to march inside within the minute. But _soon_ was a wide range of time, and Pearl returned to tidying up, Amethyst watched her kicking legs, and Connie made her way to Pearl.

“Can I help?” Connie asked.

Pearl stopped. She threw her hands to her cheek, her eyes wide and near-teary. “Really? You want to help?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Connie knew the importance of being a good guest, and, in this instance, it seemed to mean helping Pearl clean while she waited for Steven, which really didn’t seem too bad.

Pearl sighed contently then looked around for something Connie could do.

The front door opened with a loud swing.

“I’m back!” Steven stood with arms out wide.

“Steven!” called the Gems and Connie.

He threw off his cheeseburger backpack. “I’m here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses!”

He ran to Garnet, laughing, with this arms open wide. She kneeled down to his level and scooped him up in a fluid motion, standing up. He buried his face into her neck, and she patted his back twice. After he felt content with their hug, he moved his head to face her.

“Did you have a nice time with your father?”

“The best time!” Steven answered. “I did miss you guys, though.”

“Likewise,” she said with her steady voice, but she let her smile show.  She kissed his forehead directly, both lightly and quickly, to avoid giving him her future vision by accident.

He blushed and giggled, but he threw his arms around her neck for one last quick hug to show his love.

She set him down.

“Ame – ” Steven started, closing his eyes and taking a step forward, when Amethyst tackled him to the ground, shouting and laughing.

“Amethyst!” He shouted gladly after the pair stopped rolling and she laid on top of him, laughing in his ear. She pulled her head back, making sure they locked eyes, and she dramatically licked her lips.

“No! Amethyst!” He yelled while laughing.

She kissed his ear, her wet lips feeling gross against it. He flinched on reflex, scrunching his neck to hide his ear into his shoulder.

“Am-e-thyst!” He cried out before squealing out giggles.

Having had enough fun, Amethyst slumped to the floor beside him, and he took his opportunity to escape. He looked back as he ran, laughing, and letting Amethyst know that he enjoyed her joke.

“Pearl,” his voice sang her name as he headed toward her.

She stood near the kitchen counter, her hands folded together and her flushed face down. When he came to her, she dipped down and slowly put out her arms.

He threw himself into her embrace, giggling.

“Hi, Pearl,” he said into her, his words muffled.

She leaned her head down and kissed his cheek. “Hello, Steven.”

After a moment, Steven stepped away, giving her a smile as he moved back. He turned and caught sight of Connie standing in the kitchen, her hands clasped together against her chest and a shy smile on her face when he noticed her.

“Connie!” He shouted and ran towards her at full speed.

He reached her before she could move her arms, and he trapped her hands against her chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Their height difference led Steven to rest his face both against her chest and on her jawline. He giggled, liking his embrace with her and finding it funny how he caught her off guard.

She smiled, feeling flattered that he included her in his hugging-spree. The feeling brought a thought forefront as she glanced back at the gems: _I’m the only one who hasn’t kissed him._

His embrace loosened, signaling the hug came to a close. She felt a requirement, a sense of peer pressure that she created for herself that told her a kiss was necessary.

His arms loosened even more around her, and his head left her chin. She knew she was losing time. His head turned to face her direction, and his weight shifted, meaning next would come a step back.

She made her decision brashly, and she moved quickly. Her kiss came at him with sloppy, uncalculated aim. Her lips touched the soft skin of his forehead ridge and the coarseness of his curls. Her kiss left as quickly as it came. She snapped back her head and stood up straight, trying to fight the blush that desired to take over her cheeks. She immediately regretted her action, feeling as though she had overstepped some line. 

Her quick kiss stopped his giggles. He froze, eyes growing wide and lips drawing into a straight line. His surprise left as quickly as it appeared – after all, he realized that he had invited her kiss when he busted through the door calling for them – and his giggling returned. He looked up at her, smiling genuinely.

She herself still felt shy and uncertain, but she smiled down at him.

Pearl read Connie’s uneasiness and brought a hand to her chin in concern. “Steven? Why don’t you put your backpack away?”

He looked back at her. “Sure, Pearl.”

He walked to the door, scooping up his backpack and bounding up the stairs.

“Connie?” Pearl said, stepping in Connie’s line of vision. “Will you help me in the kitchen?

She nodded, figuring she couldn’t know how long it would take Steven and knowing she offered earlier. She followed Pearl the few steps into the kitchen and to the sink.

“Let’s do dishes,” Pearl said. She smirked down at Connie. “I wash, you dry?”

Connie nodded, smiling politely. Pearl hoisted Connie onto the counter and gave her a rag. Pearl cleaned a plate well, then handed it to Connie to dry. Her position allowed her vision to see Steven, who looked like he was searching for something in his room. Her lips still drew a worried frown.

Pearl noted. She said fondly, “Oh, Steven.”

Connie looked up from the plate.

Pearl smiled down at her. “So affectionate! He does that a lot, you know. He always asks for hugs and kisses. Mostly, though, when we haven’t seen him in a while – it happens a lot when he comes back from his father’s.” She laughed, “That’s when he makes a show of it! Like today. But, _you_ know,” she looked down at Connie with a sly smile, “he’s never been shy with affection.”

Connie smiled softly up at Pearl, showing that she understood Pearl’s motive to make her feel more comfortable.

“Connie!” Steven shouted from his room.

Pearl and Connie looked up.

Steven held up a red-and-white striped hula hoop. “Wanna teach me how to hula hoop?”

Connie looked at Pearl for an answer.

Pearl nodded, saying, “Thank you for your help, Connie.”

“You’re welcome,” Connie replied, hopping off the counter and meeting up with Steven at the door. She followed him out.

 

 

Steven didn’t kid when he said he needed Connie to teach him how to hula hoop. She required he show his hula-hooping level, and she felt surprised when his hips circled wildly and the hoop fell after just one go around. She taught him, giving him step-by-step instructions and personal tips. After that, his best became five, while her own record that night reached 57 rounds.

He tried a few more times, but it soon became apparent that he just didn’t have the hips or flexibility for it. She taught him instead how to swing it around the arm, the neck, and the leg. He successfully twirled the hoop around his arm, and his true talent was whirling the hoop around his neck. He found it too difficult to hula-hoop around his leg, so he continued to show off his talent of neck-twirling. He got to seventeen, and she got to twelve twirls around her neck before she said it hurt too much.

Even that grew boring after time. He suggested they take turns aiming the hoop up at each other, hoping it would land with themselves inside it.

“Hey, Steven?” Connie asked, her feet together and arms at her side, hoping that Steven’s aim would be accurate. Her nose scrunched and her head hid in her shoulder, her bracing the fact that a hula hoop might be hitting her soon, then she looked up to face him.

“Yeah, Connie?” He flung his arm holding the hoop forward and then back, forward and then back, readying his aim.

“Pearl told me that you ask the gems for hugs and kisses a lot, like you did tonight,” she paused to wait for confirmation.

His head moved forward, a single nod.

“I was just wondering if,” she looked away from him and brought her face back into her shoulder; she feared the answer she could get, and she didn’t want to see his face if he answered it like she worried, “the reason you hugged me was just because I was there.”

He paused, taken aback by her question. “Are you kidding me?”

She looked up, lips parting in surprise.

He laughed. “I love hugging you! I try to hug you every time I see you!”

Her mind went back to the times she spent with Steven, and she couldn’t remember a time in their recent friendship when he didn’t hug his greetings or his farewells. She blushed. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting the kiss part,” she laughed.

He blushed, being on the receiving end of her kiss, and laughed with her. “Me neither! Not yet.”

 _Not yet_ silenced her laughing. It made her freeze, her eyes wide and her lips drawn into a straight, terrified line. She knew what _not yet_ meant. She thought, _that means he’s thought about kissing me in the future._

He dropped the hula hoop, and it thumped against the sand. His eyes grew wide, and his mouth moved without sound. He racked his brain in hopes of finding a defense to his words. Eventually, the only sound that came from his lips was a stuttered, “I…”

She sensed his discomfort. She watched as his face lost color, his eyes grew wider, and his body stood frozen. His lips kept parting like a fish out of the ocean. She didn’t like it – and she realized she didn’t really want an explanation, either.

In a single, fluid motion, she scooped up the hula hoop and tossed it at him. It bounces off his stomach and plopped back on the sand. She took off running, laughing, and called over her shoulder, “Try and catch me, Steven!”

It took his mind a moment to catch up to the sudden change, but, when it did, he laughed. He picked up the hula hoop and chased after her.


	4. “Is it possible to love too much?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it possible to love too much?” Connie reads her essay to Steven when he visits her at school.

A/N: So much for trying to update weekly! I really don't have a good reason for why this took so long, so I hope you'll forgive me. It is the longest one yet, though, so I hope you enjoy that at least! Thanks again for all your support. Once again, please let me know somehow if you enjoyed this! Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thanks for reading!

Also, random note, I just found out yesterday, after this story was 90% finished, that there was a comic published with the same basic plot! I haven't read it, so I had no idea. I still hope you enjoy this anyhow!

Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe.

Personal/Story Disclaimers, or notes, will be at the end.

* * *

  **“Is it possible to love too much?”**

* * *

 Steven picked up his ringing phone off his bedside table. The caller ID read _Dr. Maheswaran._ He set down his video game controller, cleared his throat, and answered the phone.

“Hello, Dr. Maheswaran. This is Steven Universe speaking. How are you today?” Steven said sweetly, rehashing the polite phrase Connie taught him.

Priyanka’s voice came through the phone slightly wavered. “I – am well, Steven. How are you?”

“I am doing excellent this morning, thanks for asking,” Steven replied, thinking as he finished, _Connie would be so happy with my phone etiquette._ “May I ask why you are calling?”

“I just got off the phone with Connie’s school – ”

Steven’s gasp interrupted her. “What did they say?” His mind rapidly shifted from _etiquette_ to _uncontained excitement._

“They’ve okayed your visit tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Steven said, shouting into the phone.

“Careful, Steven,” she sounded like the winced.

“Sorry, Dr. Maheswaran,” Steven said, wincing himself. “I guess I just got excited.”

She sighed. “Yes, I understand. Connie’s lunch hour is at noon. Once you get there, you must go to the office. Talk to the secretary there, she will get you a visitor’s pass. I’ll text you a map of the school.”

“I need…a map?” He questioned, thinking, _isn’t this just school?_

Priyanka chuckled. “Connie goes to the best school in our district. It’s a moderate size.”

“Moderate?” He asked, still thinking about that map. He chuckled nervously, “Maybe I’ll show up a little early, just in case I get lost.”

“That would be fine.”

Steven feared a moment of awkward silence would follow, so he opened his mouth to say _thank you_ or _have a great day_ or _anything else I should know?_  

Instead, Priyanka continued. “I’m happy you had this idea to visit her. She will love it. Connie hasn’t been having the best time with school. You’ll make her day.”

Steven furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. But instead of voicing his confusion, he said, “Not as much as she’ll make mine.”

 

“Here, Steven,” Pearl said, placing the filled brown paper bag with _Steven_ written beautifully across the side on the kitchen counter. “I’ve packed your lunch.”

“Thanks, Pearl!” Steven called from his room. He kneeled over his cheeseburger backpack, unzipping it. He paused. “Hey, Pearl? Do you happen to know what one would take to school?”

“Probably things involved with learning,” Pearl mused absently as she wiped down the counter. “Books, writing tools like pencils and paper, maybe a clock so you know what time your class is?”

“Mmm,” Steven stroked his chin. “Well, I don’t have any ‘school books.’ I guess I can bring this comic book though? In case I get bored.” He placed it in his backpack, along with his notebook filled with doodles and a single pencil. He decided against bringing a clock, since his only clock was his Cookie Cat electric alarm clock that needed an outlet. He threw in a sweatshirt just in case he got cold.

His slung his zipped-up backpack over his shoulders and walked down the stairs. “I think I’m ready!”

“You can pack your lunch in there, too,” Pearl said, motioning towards the lunch sack with her eyes.

“Brilliant thought, Pearl,” he replied, taking off his backpack to place the paper bag inside.

“Is Greg giving you a ride?”

“Nah, I’m taking Lion. He won’t mind moseying in new territory. Maybe I’ll get him a Lion Licker, y’know, if he does mind.”

She nodded. “Is it still a surprise?”

“Oh, yeah!” He said as he slung his backpack over his shoulder again. “She has no idea. And,” he paused momentarily, “Connie’s mom thinks it’ll be good for her.”

“Well, I better not keep you then,” Pearl grinned. She waved to him as he walked out. “Bye, Steven! Have fun!”

 

“Wow, you did it, Lion,” Steven commented, petting his pet’s mane. “I didn’t really make it clear when I said ‘take me to Connie’s school,’ yet here we are. I could’ve sworn you got lost a while back there, but nope. I was wrong. And you were right. I’ll get you a Lion Licker next time I’m at the Big Donut for your good work.”

His slid off Lion, stood a moment observing the school, and whistled his awe. He then adjusted his backpack and took a deep breath. “Wish me luck!”

As he stepped forward, he looked at Lion over his shoulder, smiling, “Now don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!”

Lion growled. A brightly colored butterfly flew past his nose, and he just as quickly forgot his frustration. He chased after the butterfly.

“Don’t go too far!” Steven called then smiled to himself. His smile fell as he stroked his chin. “I wonder if he’ll ever come back, though.”

 

He found the office easily, it being the first open door to his left in the building and having a sign that said _Office_. He walked right up to the front desk, like Priyanka instructed, and waited for the woman behind the desk to finish typing.

“Yes?” She asked, still typing and keeping her eyes on her computer.

“My name is Steven Universe. Connie Maheswaran goes here, and she’s my best friend, and I’m here to visit her!”

“You will need a visitor’s pass.”

“Okay,” he agreed. After time passed and nothing changed, he asked timidly, “Can I please have one?”

She continued typing for a moment before leaving her chair and going towards the back. He waited nervously, unsure of what exactly the secretary was doing. She returned with a little green plastic badge that said _visitor._

“Sign here,” she said, passing him a clipboard with a place for him to leave his signature.

He did so, dotting the _i_ in _Universe_ with a little star. He gave her back the clipboard, and she handed him the pass.

“Just clip that on your shirt and return it at the end of the day. You’re good to go,” she looked down at the clipboard, “Steven Universe.”

“Thank you!” He exclaimed, then bit his lip in concentration as he tried to clip the badge on his shirt.

He left the office with a spring in his step, figuring he’d come across a sign that said _Cafeteria_ , the room Connie told him where she ate lunch. But eventually he hit a dead end, causing himself to pull out his cell phone and look at the school map. He did his best to follow the confusing lines and perplexing instructions, but he did finally make it into the cafeteria.

He opened the door and stepped inside. The loud sound of laughing and talking bounced off the large windows and high ceilings and hit him in the face. Teenagers all taller than him walked around him like a swarm of bees. He looked at the disorderly lunch line and unpleasant cafeteria workers to his right, and he saw the loud sea of heads sitting and laughing at lunch tables on his left.

His original plan had been to surprise Connie, now he just hoped to find her. He took a deep breath and stepped in further. He walked down the line of tables, his eyes scanning fervently for his best friend.  He became more nervous as table passed and he didn’t spot her.

 _Is she even here?_ He thought to himself. _Am I too late? Is there more than one cafeteria?_

“Steven!”

He turned his head to see Connie running to him at full speed. He stepped in her direction, his shoulders open, but speed brought her to him before he could do any more. She embraced him, her body flying into his. She squished her cheek up against his and squealed.

“What are you _doing_ here?” She asked still holding onto him.

He pulled away just enough to turn his head, and she in turn followed, to look at her expression. “Surprise!”

She made a playful expression, telling him that she didn’t accept that as an answer.

He chuckled as he stepped back. “I’m here to see you!”

“Why?”

He blinked. “Why not?”

She looked away momentarily before smiling brightly at him. “Well, I’m…really glad you’re here. How long are you staying?”

He shrugged. “For as long as you want me here. I packed a lunch!” He gestured to his backpack.

“Well,” she giggled, looping her arm with his, “let’s have lunch together.”

As they walked to her table, he whispered to her, “There’s so many people here.”

“You try and get used to it,” she frowned.

When he noticed the table they walked toward—spotting a chevron lunch bag with a sling that sat at the end of the table—he gasped. “Do I get to meet your lunch time pals?”

He noticed her wince and her forced smile.

“You get to meet the girls I eat with. They’re really nice upperclassmen. They let me sit with them, and they say hi to me.”

He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, and pulled his arm a little closer into himself, thereby bringing Connie closer. When they reached the table, Connie looked ready to sit down immediately, but a blonde haired girl smiled up at them.

“Connie, who’s this?”

She blushed. “This is my best friend, Steven Universe. He’s visiting me for the day!”

The few girls at the table looked up, smiled, waved and said their _nice to meet you_ ’s, and scooted down to make space for Steven to sit across from Connie. By the time Steven sat down and pulled out his lunch, the older girls already shifted their attention back to their group.

He felt a twinge of sadness as he looked at the distracted older girls and then at Connie, but she smiled brightly anyway, leaning forward.

“What do you have?”

He giggled, remembering how easily Connie made him forget his negative feelings. “You first!”

“Well,” she announced jokingly, showing off each item she named, “a can of apple juice, a container of noodles, celery sticks, and an oatmeal raisin cookie for dessert. Your turn!”

“Well,” he said, matching her humorous tone and pulling out each unknown item, “I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a can of orange soda, a bag of chips and…carrot sticks.” He tried not to look too disappointed with the plastic bag of vegetables, since he knew Pearl only did best.

She smirked. “I’ll trade you my cookie for your carrot sticks.”

“Deal!” He perked up, immediately handing her the plastic bag.

She handed him the cookie happily.

He contently looked over his lunch, and his smile fell when he thought, _our lunches aren’t really fair._

He held up his soda can. “I’ll trade you my pop for your apple juice?”

“Mmmm,” she mused then nodded. “Deal.”

 They traded off, and, as soon as his hands emptied, he picked up his sandwich and took the biggest bite he could manage. He looked around the room as he did his best to chew, noting the dimensions and the crowd. His eyes fell back on Connie, who continued to smile brightly and stare at him.

He chewed his food as fast as he could, trying to eventually talk. He reached out for the apple juice, taking a quick drink and putting the can back down. He kept his arm out on the table as he finally asked, “What?”

She reached out and held his hand. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

Her words made him smile, and the longer she held his hand, gripping it tighter with each passing second, the more his stomach fluttered.

She let go rather abruptly, bringing her arm to lay on her lap quickly. She looked down and tilted low her head.

He sensed her embarrassment, so he said, “I’m really happy I’m here, too.”

She met his eyes shyly and smiled.

He felt his stomach growl and immediately took another big bite of his sandwich. As he scarfed down his main dish, he noticed she only nibbled at the carrot sticks.

When his mouth was empty enough to speak, he asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”

She shrugged, smirking, “I’m too excited to eat.”

“For what?”

She laughed. “You! You just being here!”

He laughed, too. He took a quick gulp of the apple juice, then asked with a low voice, “I’m gonna be honest with you. I still don’t really understand this… _school_ thing. What do we do when we’re done eating?”

“We go to class. Next is my English class.”

“You learn English in English class?”

She giggled. “Yeah. We read a lot and write essays on what we’ve read.”

“And then we go home?”

She giggled again. “No! Then we go to science and then gym today.”

“Wow, three classes in one day!”

Her giggle grew to a laugh. “No, Steven. I have four classes before lunch.”

“Seven classes? Doesn’t that mean you’re here for hours?”

“Yeah, eight.”

He breathed out, placing his hand on his chest. “That’s so much. And this, lunch time, is your only break?”

“I do have a study hall.”

 _I’m not sure if I want to know what that is,_ he thought. He shook his head then chuckled. “It’s sure different to see how you live, Maheswaran.”

She snickered. “Quite different from the life of a magical half-gem, aye, Universe?”

He laughed, nodding his head repeatedly.

She took a bite from a carrot stick, glancing over Steven’s head. She looked down at his unfinished lunch. “You might wanna hurry. We have five minutes before the bell rings.”

“Okay, what does that mean?”

“It means lunch is over and it’s time to go to class.”

“Lunch is almost over?!” He panicked, throwing his hands to his face. He looked at his half-finished sandwich, his unopened bag of chips, his mostly-filled can of juice, and his untouched cookie. His eyes darted among the foods.

She picked up the cookie. “Eat your sandwich,” she instructed.

His breathing eased, and he took the biggest bite he could managed out of his sandwich. He watched her wrap up his cookie in a napkin then place it on his side of the table. He gulped his apple juice, then finished the sandwich with a second bite. She reached across the table for his chips, opened the seal, sneaked a chip for herself, then passed the bag back toward him.

He gulped down his juice and slammed the empty can on the table. He smirked at her. “Teamwork.”

She smirked back. “Teamwork.” She quickly took a second chip from his bag.

He ate a handful of chips. The bell rang.

He spoke, crumbs spitting from his lips, “I guess almost is good enough.” He rolled up the chip bag and placed it and the cookie in his backpack.

She stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulders and taking her lunch bag by its handle. “Come on, Steven. We need to hurry so we won’t be caught in the rush.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, still confused with the concept of school, but jumped up and put on his backpack. He threw out his arm dramatically. “Lead the way, m’lady!”

She giggled, pushing down his arm. With it by his side again, she took his hand, interlocking her fingers with his. He felt a giggle rising up from his belly with the soft feeling of her skin against his. She dragged him quickly, interweaving among the crowd.

His eyes darted, his head overwhelmed by the swarming crowd. _I’ve never seen so many people together in my life!_ He thought. He leaned into Connie’s side and opened his mouth to say his thoughts aloud, when she beat him to it, bringing her lips to his ear.

“We’re going straight to class,” she said. “I already have my stuff, so we don’t need to go to my locker that’s on the other side of the school anyway.”

His eyes widened when he found it challenging to hear her despite her speaking at a normal volume in his ear. He nodded to show her that he understood despite the difficult effort.

She led him down busy hallways and around tight corners. She turned sharply into a classroom, dragging him behind her, and he instantly let out a breath.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Gortzema,” Connie greeted the middle-aged darker skinned woman at the chalk board.

Mrs. Gortzema turned and smiled. “Hello, Connie.”

Connie’s hand still interlocked with his, she pulled Steven beside her. “This is my best friend, Steven Universe.”

“Hello,” he waved with his empty hand.

“Would it be all right if Steven pulls up a chair at my desk?”

Mrs. Gortzema placed her hand on her chin. “Well, he is certainly allowed to join us, but I don’t think a chair at your usual desk would work. He’d be in the way. But you two could sit in desks in the back row, since those never fill up anyhow.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Connie said. She led Steven by the hand.

“Thanks,” he said, turning back his head.

She let go of his hand when they reached the last row of desks. She sat down immediately, and he copied her by sitting in one beside her. He beamed, looking around the classroom and taking in the official feelings of _school._

After a moment, he stood up and pushed his desk next to Connie’s, sending a loud screeching sound to echo in the classroom.

“Steven!” Connie said, watching him move his desk in discomfort. “What are you doing?”

He plopped down in his desk again, throwing up his arms. “I wanted to sit next to you!” He sighed contently, looking around the classroom again. “This is so much better.”

She looked up at the front of the classroom, specifically at her teacher to see if his actions were okayed. Mrs. Gortzema frowned and scratched her ear, but otherwise she turned back to the chalk board. Connie took no verbal _no’s_ as a _fine._

She looked back at Steven who avidly admired the room and waved to students walking in. She noted how his desk touched hers and then how it literally trapped her to her seat.

“Steven,” she said, looking down at his lap, “I’m trapped.”

“I’ll let you out when you need to,” he said, keeping his eyes on the door and his hand waving.

She realized she couldn’t convince him, so she let out a breath and emptied her backpack. She organized her textbook, her notebook, her planner, her pen and whiteout onto her desk.

Once the flow of incoming students ended, he noticed her work. He unzipped his backpack to copy her, and he put his comic book on the desk, stacking his doodle sketchbook and pen on top and leaving his sweatshirt in his backpack.

“So,” he said, leaning his side toward her, “what happens next?”

Her eyes glanced at the clock in the front of the room. “Class begins in 2 minutes. She typically starts passing back our graded homework right about now, so she’ll be done just after class starts. Sometimes she’ll have the best essays read in front of us, but that’s kinda rare. Then we’ll read together in class. We take notes together. Any time left over, we get to work on our homework.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, “I see.”

He saw the rows in front of him mostly filled. He glanced around, looking at the pictures on the teacher’s desk and the words _To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee 1960_ written on the chalkboard. He noticed Connie and he sat alone in the back row with the exception of a taller kid with his hood thrown over his head. Steven smiled and waved at him, and the boy raised an eyebrow but gave a nod.

“Here you are, Connie,” Mrs. Gortzema stretched out her arm, her voice bringing Steven’s attention back to Connie. Mrs. Gortzema held a stapled paper folded downward to hide the words.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Connie said, taking the paper and flipping it over to see.

He leaned into her, trying to peer at the paper. “How’d you do?”

She smirked at him. “Perfect mark,” she said, pointing to the grade.

He whistled his praise. “You’re a genius! Aren’t you?”

She giggled. “No way! I just worked really hard on this one. It paid off, I guess. Mom and Dad will be happy.”

“I’m happy, too,” he smiled down at the cursive words written with purple pen, _Truly phenomenal work!_

She blushed, but he didn’t notice.

“Good afternoon, class,” Mrs. Gortzema greeted, standing in front.

“Good afternoon,” greeted some of the class while Steven’s voice rang the loudest.

“I just finished handing back your essays from our Shakespeare unit. You all did a fine job, as usual, but one paper stood out.”

Steven inhaled sharply. He bit his lip and looked at Connie. Her folded hands stayed on her desk and her lips stayed in a respectful smile.

 _She doesn’t think it could be her?_ He thought. _It_ has _to be hers!_

Mrs. Gortzema outstretched her arm to point at Connie in the back row. “Connie, please come up here and read your paper aloud to the class.”

Steven gasped, putting his hands to his cheeks in delight. The bodies in desks all turned around to look at Connie. Her eyes grew wide.

“Mine, ma’am?” Connie asked quietly.

He noticed her folded hands gripped tighter together.

“Yes, Connie.”

“I – ” she breathed out quietly.

He placed his hand atop of hers, and she turned her face to him. Her eyes grew wider, and her lips sucked in a breath. His thumb gently grazed against her fingers.

“I’d love to hear your paper, Connie,” he said gently, leaning in closer so she could hear him.

“Connie,” Mrs. Gortzema’s voice rang sternly from the front of the classroom.

She closed her eyes and nodded. She then turned her head towards the front of the classroom and nodded to Mrs. Gortzema.

“Steven,” she whispered, looking back at him, “I need to get out.”

“Oh!” He exclaimed. He kicked his feet to the side and propelled the desk away from hers, sending a loud screeching noise into the air. The students groaned and covered their ears, and he giggled his embarrassment.

She focused instead on quickly grabbing her paper off her desk and shuffling, head down, to the front of the classroom. She turned to face her classmates slowly, keeping her head low.

“Remember to speak up, Connie,” Mrs. Gortzema said, sitting down at her desk. “You may begin.”

She took a deep breath.

Steven brought his hands to his mouth, his eyes shining with anticipation.

“I lie in bed – ”

“I’m sorry, Connie,” Mrs. Gortzema interrupted.

He huffed at what he took as Mrs. Gortzema’s rudeness.

Mrs. Gortzema continued. “Could you introduce yourself to the class, say which prompt you chose, and your title.”

Connie blushed. “Yes, ma’am. My apologies.”

“It’s all right. I should have been more clear. Go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked up. She locked eyes with his. He smiled his best supportive smile and waved with his hand low. She smiled back at him and took another deep breath as her eyes glanced around the classroom.

“Hi. My name is Connie Maheswaran. The prompt I chose was ‘is it possible to love too much?’ The title of my essay, basing off of that, is ‘Sacrificial Love.’”

She breathed in deeply and read aloud.

_I lie in bed looking up at my ceiling. My mind races. I ask myself again the same question that keeps pounding: is it possible to love too much?_

_I think the obvious answer is no. It is not possible to love too much. But, I ask myself, why do I think that? I know the definition of love. Love means a deep caring, a feeling of trust and commitment. But, even more, when verbalized, it has selfless action. And, if love indeed is selfless, then there can be no limit to how much is given. But, how do I know that love is selfless?_

_My mind finds its examples quickly, and I think of my parents. They love one another deeply. They end phone calls, start mornings, and end laughing sprees with 'I love you.' On the day of their wedding, years ago, the minister asked if they would love one another 'till death do you part,' and both promised 'I do.'_

“Slow down, Connie,” Mrs. Gortzema said gently, but it still made Steven glare at her.

Connie flushed. “Yes, ma’am.” She took a deep breath.

_My father hates doing the dishes. Just the thought of cleaning plates splattered with juices and utensils caked with grime makes him grimace. The action of putting his hands in the slimy water makes him gag. So, my mother cleans the dishes every night. She even washes them on the nights when she comes home late after a long shift at the hospital. One night, I came down the stairs to find her cleaning dishes alone in the dimly lit kitchen at midnight. I asked her why she cleaned the dishes so late._

_“I don’t mind,” she told me, but I saw the dark circles under her eyes and the yawn she tried to hide. I noticed the way her shoulders slumped and how she leaned her weight against the sink._

_My mom hates the cold. Waking up early during winter is hardest for her, and my dad knows this. When her alarm goes off in the morning, before the sun rises and before she can hit snooze, he rolls out of bed. He goes to the bathroom and starts her hot shower. While she showers, he prepares her coffee. Five minutes before she leaves, on the dot, he starts the car and turns on the heat, so the car is warm when she drives off. I asked him once why he did all this, when he himself didn’t need to be up for another couple hours, and he smiled at me, saying, “I love her.”_

_In order to love, like my parents love, there must be selflessness. And, if there is selflessness, like there should be, then there can be no limit. By that logic, no one can ever love too much. No harm comes from my parents’ actions either. Once, when my mother was called to work a double, my father put on a brave face and cleaned the dishes himself, gagging and grimacing as he did so. Once when my father caught a cold, my mom did her morning routine alone without saying a word. This, too, is an act of selflessness. It reminds me that there is yet again no limit to love._

_I close my eyes, trying to sleep. Now that I possess the answer, my brain should quiet enough for me to drift into sleep. Instead, my head reminds me of my fencing instructor, a knight, who once told me about her master._

Steven leaned forward. He looked around quickly, wondering if anyone knew who she was actually talking about. Most had their heads down, and those who seemed interested appeared surprised. He looked back on Connie, who was taking in a deep breath, as if to encourage herself to continue. He leaned even further.

_The knight pledged her very being to her master and put her above all else. I saw bravery in the knight’s actions, I saw courage, but, most of all, I saw selflessness. Her denial of necessities, her refusal of sleep, and her recklessness over her life I viewed as love. This logic moved further – the master, so far above herself, the knight brought herself to nothingness, to worthlessness to propel her liege to the highest point._

_I mirrored her actions. I latched onto her logic. To protect the one I love, like how the knight protected her beloved, her master, I understood. Before a test, to remind me to give every piece of myself during the fight, for my own beloved, she said to me, “You don’t matter.”_

_“I don’t matter,” I stated it like my anthem, embraced it as my battle cry._

He closed his eyes and gripped his hands together tightly. He remembered it well, and he squeezed his eyes to push out the memory.

_My actions selfless, or so I thought, until my liege came to me. He brought himself down from the pedestal I had set him on and outstretched his hand to bring me up to his side. “Together,” he told me, drawing his shield. The selflessness I prided myself on was not love but rather self-harm. It hurt me, and it hurt the knight, too. She cried on the day of that practice, when our teamwork reminded her that her own beloved was gone._

_My head pounds. Perhaps, then it is possible to love too much, when selflessness, a trait founded on love, mutates into a consuming, harmful monster. The knight sacrificed herself to no end for her master in the name of love._

He looked down at his desk numbly. Pearl’s crying face wouldn’t leave his mind.

_But then, is sacrifice wrong? No. But what differentiates the sacrifice my parents make for one another and the sacrifices the knight made for her liege? Where is the line drawn?_

_I see his face, the boy I pledged myself to, the boy who brought me up to his side, my beloved. His mother sacrificed herself to bring him into the world. She, now gone, knowing she would be gone if he came into existence, made the decision because of love._

He gripped firmly at his shirt, where his gem hid.

_My head hurts, and I bring my fingers up to massage my temples. Well, then, I think, why is her sacrifice love and the knight’s sacrifice harmful?_

He leaned forward again.

_He is the product of love, the result of perfect love. Her sacrifice brought good into the world. My beloved is good. He is kind to everyone he meets, and he loves all that is good on the Earth. He greets each person with tenderness. He cries when he sees someone he loves hurting, he stands in front of loved ones to protect them, and he extends mercy to even his enemies. Even if I had spent my entire life blind to the good actions he’s done for others, I would know he was good by the actions he’s done for me._

_Before him, I didn’t know myself: I was just a shy reflection whose mind danced with ideas that feared escaping. I secluded myself, unsure as to why anyone would approach me – and then he did, he approached me, because he wanted to know me, he desired to hear the thoughts I locked up. He wanted to spend time with me, when no one else, not even myself, considered me. And when I wanted to show him my gratitude by lowering myself, he threw out his hand and told me we belonged on the same level, together. He didn’t transform me by any means, he just uncovered my eyes to recognize the person I am beneath my fears. I am brave, dedicated, strong, loyal. I am caring, I am loving, I am unstoppable, and I know all this because of his love. His mother’s sacrifice brought him into the world, a world he loves wholeheartedly. Her sacrifice brought goodness into the world. The knight’s sacrifice brought on sadness and self-harm. Even my parents’ meager sacrifices bring happiness into the world as they share it between themselves._

_I close my eyes, as I believe I finally found the answer. If it really is love, there is sacrifice, but sacrifice that brings good into the world to help others. Then love, true love, can have no limit. As I drift into sleep, finally at peace, I see the boy’s face smiling at me._

She finished reading and lowered her paper to her side. She was met with halfhearted and arrhythmic applause, and she kept her eyes on her shoes.

Mrs. Gortzema clapped the loudest and came to stand at her side. “Excellent work, Connie,” she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I especially loved the metaphors of the knight and your beloved being the product of love. Really honest, _creative_ work!”

Connie dared to look at the back of the classroom while her teacher spoke. She scanned so quickly—she saw his folded hands pressed against his frowned lips and his eyes wide—and she looked back down at her shoes before she could read his face any further, already taking his expression as a negative.

“Mrs. Gortzema,” Connie said, speaking at the heel of her teacher’s words, who put a hand on her cheek in surprise, “may I go to the restroom?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Gortzema answered, blinking. “Just take the hall pass off my desk.”

“Thank you,” Connie said, scurrying past the desk, scooping up the hall pass, and shuffling out the door with shoulders hunched and head cast low.

Steven sat still, lips still pressed in a frown and eyes still wide, though he rested his chin on his hand. He watched her shuffle, body language demurred, out of the classroom. He felt a twinge of worry but it was eaten by the overwhelming feeling of – _um,_ he thought, _what do I feel? How do I feel?_

He clutched the edge of his shirt.

“Okay, class, take out your books and – ” Mrs. Gortzema instructed.

Steven barely heard her amongst his brain’s own racket. He wondered if he was required to obey, since it wasn’t his class and it wasn’t his book, so he just decided to continue to stare at the door.

 _I’ll just wait for Connie,_ he decided and thereby pushed away any serious thoughts fighting to be surfaced. _She’ll tell me what to do._ _I don’t really get this school thing._

He tried listening to the lecture, but it mainly went over his head. He opened his notebook and absently doodled, looking back up at the door every few seconds.

After many happy doodles of suns and trees and clouds, he doodled a sword. An abstract, half-formed thought, more like a feeling in his stomach, pounced, _Connie belongs at the end of this sword._

 _Is she okay?_ He looked up at the clock on the wall. He scrunched his nose, unsure of how much time actually passed since she left. _It_ feels _like a long time._ He suddenly felt overcome with worry, and he shot up his hand in the air, something he only knew about because he’d seen Connie do it.

“Excuse me – ma’am?” He couldn’t remember the teacher’s name either, so he took a second page from Connie.

“Yes?” Mrs. Gortzema sputtered, surprised at his outburst.

“Can I go to the bathroom – please?”

She looked at the clock behind her and pursed her lips. Hesitantly, she nodded. “Yes, you may.”

“Thank you,” he said, quickly hopping out from his desk and rushing toward the door.

“Don’t forget a hall pass!”

He halted then froze, trying to remember anything he could about _hall pass._

“On my desk,” Mrs. Gortzema said.

He looked back at her and chuckled nervously. “Thank you.” He then went towards her desk, found it, and rushed out the door.

He closed it behind himself, first feeling a sense of freedom and then utter confusion as he realized he didn’t know where the bathrooms were. He looked left down the hall and then right down the hall, and then he groaned. He needed to find Connie, and he couldn’t.

He side-stepped away from the door and leaned against the wall. He lunged forward on his toes, looked left and right once more, then leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. He fiddled his fingers, taking turns feeling against his sandals and the hem of his jeans. He let those actions occupy his mind while he waited for Connie to return. He didn’t know how much time passed.

His eyes on his sandals, he saw a pair of white shoes step in front of him.

“Steven?”

He looked up to see Connie, her arms crossed and her shoulders slumped. She quickly scratched her cheek, right below her eye, and he noticed her red eyes.

She looked away from him. “What are you doing out here?” she sniffed subconsciously.

He looked at up at her with wide eyes filled with concern. “I came out to look for you, but I didn’t know where the bathrooms were. You,” he paused, looking down at her feet and then back up at her face, “you were gone a long time.”

She looked at the classroom door. “I’m back now,” she said quickly – not harshly, but quickly.

He expected her to lead the way into the classroom, but instead she stood still, eyes shifting to the wall.

“Connie?” He asked as gently as his voice would allow. He took a deep breath then leaned his head against the wall to look directly up at her. “Were you…were you crying?”

She inhaled sharply. He leaned his body forward and outstretched his arms in her direction. He watched her shoulders heave up, and he put down his hand on the tile to give himself a boost to stand up. She took a step closer to the wall and then slammed her back against it with sloppy aim, and she slid down to sit beside him, leaving no distance at all between them.

“I’m sorry,” she said. A tear quickly fell from her eye, and she brought up her knees to her chest and buried her face.

“For what?”

She sat so close that he couldn’t comfortably turn his head to look at her, so he stared at the lockers ahead and concentrated on making his voice the caring touch he couldn’t enact.

She mumbled into her knees. “I shouldn’t have written about you or Pearl or your,” she hiccupped, “mom. I should have asked permission.”

 _Maybe,_ he thought, but he couldn’t get his mouth to let out the word. Instead he hesitantly put his hand on her shoe, wanting to comfort her and not knowing how. “I didn’t mind.”

She stayed quiet for a moment then whispered, “Pearl would have.”

He heard her, and he tried again. “You didn’t say anything – wrong.” He stayed quiet for a moment, then he interjected a second point he suddenly thought of. “You didn’t say of our names.”

She moved her head out from her knees and wiped away her eyes. “I still should have asked permission.”

“Maybe,” he said this time, but he moved his hand up from her shoe and lightly stroked her ankle to let her know he didn’t feel angry.

She leaned her head back against the wall.

 _This is better,_ he thought. _She isn’t crying anymore._

He moved his hand from her ankle and started fiddling with the hem of her pant-leg. “I really liked your paper.”

“Yeah?” She kept her eyes ahead, but her lips twitched briefly into a smile.

“Yeah. You said a lot of good things in it, a lot of,” he breathed in, “real things.”

She groaned, throwing her face into her hands and going back to her knees. He moved back in surprise then put a comforting hand on her long hair that draped her back. She shook her head, and he thought that she was shaking off his touch, so he brought back his hand. She brought back her head, her hands cupping her red cheeks, and she laughed. “It’s so _embarrassing!_ ”

He looked surprised then chuckled alongside her. He leaned into her side, bringing his lips near her ear, to teasingly taunt her, “I’ve never been called _beloved_ before.”

She squealed, shaking her head even more fiercely, and her face flushed deeper. “It sounds so _cheesy_ when said out loud!”

He leaned in closer, his lips only inches away from her ear. He whispered, “ _Beloved._ ”

She squealed again and moved her hands to cover her eyes.

He repeated the phrase jokingly, bringing his mouth closer to her ear with each reiteration. “Beloved, beloved, beloved, beloved!”

“Stop!” She shrieked. She leaned back her head against the wall, her face still red but holding a wide smile.

“Sorry,” he said. He stayed close, trying to read her face to make sure he hadn’t offended her.

“It’s okay,” she chuckled. She put a hand to a forehead. “It _was_ really cheesy.”

He chuckled lightly, keeping his eyes on her. He said quickly, before he could think about it, “We don’t really talk about how much we mean to each other, do we?”

“You mean everything to me,” she said, turning her head sharply to look at him. Their faces extremely close, they both snapped their heads back after a brief pause, then they both looked away.

“You,” he breathed in, “you mean everything to me, too, Connie.”

“Really?” she asked, looking down at her feet.

He looked at her. “Well, yeah. You do. You’re my – ” he smirked mischievously, leaned in, and whispered in her ear, “ _beloved._ ”

She pushed him away, laughing, “I told you to stop!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” He threw out his hands defensively, but he laughed.

The bell rang, and it startled them both. He looked at her, confused as to what it meant, and she placed a hand on her cheek, looking horrified. She then laughed.

“I skipped an entire class!”

He chuckled, too, though unsure of what that meant.

She stood up, and he followed suit. The door beside them opened, and students pooled out. The hall gradually became more crowded, and he took a step closer to her.

When the classroom emptied, she stepped inside, and he followed. She walked up to Mrs. Gortzema first and said, “I apologize for my absence, Mrs. Gortzema. It won’t happen again.”

“I expect it not to,” Mrs. Gortzema said sternly. “I won’t give you detention – though I really should – if you’ll write me a 500-word paper about skipping class by Monday.”

Connie let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, ma’am. I will.”

  He followed Connie to the back of the room and collected his things into his backpack when she did hers. He then followed her out of the classroom and into the still congested halls.

He reached out to take her hand, afraid that if he didn’t, he would lose her, but worried that she wouldn’t hold his hand. She took his hand in hers but didn’t grip it as tightly as she had earlier in the day.

“This is it,” she said, standing beside an open door and dropping his hand to stand in front of him. “This class won’t be nearly as interesting as the last.”

He chuckled and look absently around for a clock.

“You can go, if you need to,” she said quickly then shrugged. “It’s okay. I have a test anyway. Pretty boring.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Steven,” she took a step closer, “it’s okay. I’ll see you soon anyway. I train every Saturday. I’m just,” she took a deep breath and smiled, “really happy you came.”

“Me, too,” he said. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her in a clumsy hug, then stepped back and waved. “Bye, Connie.”

She giggled, “Bye, Steven.”

 

“Steven!” Pearl called as he walked through the door. “How did it go?”

“Oh,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He walked up the steps into his room. “It was good.”

“Good?”

He caught sight of Connie’s picture on his shelf. He smiled. “Yeah.”

* * *

 Notes/Disclaimers:  
-Bubble Buddies told us Connie didn’t have friends, so I believe Connie really wouldn’t excel socially at school. Yes, we’re seeing Connie becoming braver with each episode, and I think it’s possible that one day she’d be more social – but right now, I think canon supports this idea of shy at school Connie.  
-I kept Connie’s grade as vague as the show does. Because I wrote Connie sits with upperclassmen in this story, she is either a seventh grader whose birthday is late in the school year or a freshman who skipped a grade for this story’s purpose, and I’m willing to change it if canon ever disagrees.  
-I still think, at this moment in canon, Connie wouldn’t be a good public speaker yet. I _definitely_ think she’ll get there one day, especially since canon says president!Connie is very possible one day (“Steven’s Birthday”). But for now, I think Connie’s found courage to talk boldly to people she’s close with (Pearl in Sworn to the Sword, Priyanka in Nightmare Hospital, even Steven in Gem Hunt), but I don’t think she’s at the point where she’d be good at giving public presentations to classmates.  
-I have no idea if the essay I wrote for Connie would even get a "perfect mark." My goal was to keep it interesting, since when are essays ever interesting?  
-I know I might get some discourse with what I wrote about Pearl and Rose in Connie’s essay. I don’t believe I’ve gone against canon in anyway. I am always open to constructive criticism if you think you have it, though.  
-I’m going to try to interweave these oneshots even better together. Can’t wait for you to read the next one!


	5. "I don't wanna get up - you're comfy."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie make a blanket fort.

A/N: Hey, everyone! Nope, I'm not dead lol. Unfortunately with school and work, I don't think I'll ever have a consist update schedule for this fic. But this is such a passion project for me that I hope I continue on. Thanks for bearing with me! I hope you enjoy this one. As always, I love any feedback! Thanks!

Disclaimer: Don't own SU.

* * *

 "I don't wanna get up-- you're comfy."

* * *

 Steven hurriedly flipped the page. His eyes scanned the words fervently, and his lips twitched along to the letters he read. He brought his face closer into the book, practically burying his nose into its bind. At the end of its chapter—with an appropriate cliffhanger—he set down the book on his lap and stared absently into the kitchen.

“Wow,” he breathed out to himself and brought his hand to his cheek. _I can’t believe how good this book is!_ He thought. Taking a deep breath, he picked the book up from his lap and brought it back to his eyes. Completely enthralled in his reading, he didn’t hear the screen door creak open.

“Hello?” Connie called as she leaned her head through the doorway. She noticed Steven sitting on the couch. She said, stepping inside, “Steven?”  

He glanced up from his book quickly, then, when recognizing her, he put the book on his lap and threw his hands up. “Connie!” He blinked. “It’s training day already?”

She looked at him questioningly but snickered anyhow. “Yeah.” She sighed then said, crossing her arms against her chest, “Another week has come and gone.”

Steven’s fingers slid over the pages on his lap, and his eyes couldn’t help but glance between Connie and the book. She herself, dressed in a t-shirt and overalls with her bag slung over her shoulder, rubbed her arm and looked away. She looked back at him and asked, “Do you have the sword?”

“Oh, yeah!” He exclaimed, his mind so full of the book’s adventures that he had forgotten he kept his mother’s sword for Connie. “It’s in my room.”

He closed the book but held it firm in hand as he hopped from the couch. She followed behind him, both marching up the stairs. He leapt onto his bed, giggling as flew, then leaned over it and took the sword out from under the bed. He held it out. “Here you are.”

She looked at it fondly before taking it. “Thanks for taking care of it. One day I hope to convince my mom to let me keep it in the house.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he said then sat up and leaned against his pillows, getting himself comfy and ready to read again. He tried flipping to his current page as he glanced from the pages back to Connie.

“What are you reading?” She asked, setting down her bag and sitting at the edge of his bed.

He held up the book. “It’s called _The Incredible Journey_ – it’s the second in the series.” He giggled, “I finished the first one, _The Surprising Journey_ , yesterday. I couldn’t put it down! Can’t with this one, either!”

She leaned forward. “What’s it about?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but both his and her focus shifted to the whooshing of the temple door opening.

Pearl stepped out and glanced around until she found Connie. “Ahh! On time per usual.”

Connie shot up and pressed the sword against her chest. “I’ll be right there, ma’am!”

Pearl pursed her lips, but then she nodded while walking toward the warp pad.

Connie turned to Steven, keeping her eyes however on the sword in her arms. “Do you want to come watch me train? I know it’s your day off, but I just thought, I don’t know, you might wanna watch.”

He glanced quickly at Pearl then back at Connie and placed a hand on his uneasy stomach. He forced his most caring smile. “That sounds nice, but I kinda planned on finishing this book today.”

Her eyes didn’t leave the sword.

He added slowly, leaning his head forward, “We can still hang out after, right?”

“Of course,” she said quickly. She stood still a moment longer then grinned at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me, too,” he grinned back, and this smile felt more genuine to him.

After that, she turned quickly on her heels and ran down the stairs. He watched her make her way to the warp pad, to Pearl, and he watched Pearl’s lips move.

He frowned. Looking at Pearl reminded him of all the words Connie wrote in her essay. He looked back at Connie, and her eyes stared deeply at him.

His lips parted slightly. _She saw that!_ She saw him frown. She sensed his uneasiness even from distance. He kept his eyes locked with hers until the flash of light separated them.

He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. His thoughts begged him to think about Connie’s essay and the uneasiness he felt towards it, despite his desire to find only joy in it, but instead he picked up his book.

 

The second his mind entered the book’s fictional world, his thoughts entertained nothing else. He followed closely behind the protagonist and her fight against the darkness in that world, and he finished the book with a contented sigh. He stared absently at the wall in front of him, letting his mind process the story he finished. He patted the book affectionately then hopped from his bed. All that reading made him hungry.

After constructing the perfect sandwich, he munched on it at the counter. He kicked his legs back and forth as he looked out the window, wondering how much time he spent reading. The sun had shifted from late morning to early afternoon, so he figured it probably two hours since Connie’s training began. He swallowed his bite and took a sip from the soda can. _Connie should be done soon,_ he thought, thinking how training now rarely went over a couple of hours. _And we’ll have the rest of the day to hang out!_

He thought about the essay—her words about Pearl, her explanation of his mom, _beloved_ —feelings and memories and quotes fought to the surface all at once, and he quickly jumped from his chair. He decided watching tv sounded nice.

He made himself comfortable on his bed and counted himself blessed when he found a _Crying Breakfast Friends_ marathon playing. He laughed along to the jokes and cried along with the characters. But, before he knew it, three full episodes passed and Connie hadn’t returned.

Two more episodes finished, this time with him watching the screen as much as the warp pad, and still no change. He sat up and considered warping to check up on her.

 _No, no, she’s fine,_ he thought, even shaking his head slightly. _Besides, she should be back any minute!_

He decided to take a break from tv. He figured drawing could be fun, and he pitched himself at the living room’s coffee table with markers and paper. He drew his favorite characters from his finished book, and it helped ease his mind – until he finished.

He sighed, looking out the screen door at the lower sun. He put his hand to his chin and looked back at the warp pad. He sat there in silence for a few minutes then decided tv deserved another go. He made it halfway up the stairs when the warp pad activated.

“Connie!” He shouted before he could stop himself.

Pearl continued speaking, and Connie appeared like she heard no one else.

“Truly outstanding work today, Connie,” Pearl complimented, and she failed at hiding her pleased smile. “I’ve never seen you better. I do apologize for keeping you so long – ”

“It’s okay!” Connie said then blushed. “Ma’am. I needed it.”

“Either way,” Pearl said, smiling down at Connie, “we’ll ease up next time.”

As Steven walked toward the warp pad, he noticed the shimmer of sweat from Connie’s forehead, neck, and arms. Her shirt looked darker around her chest and her sleeves. He noticed her chest heaving and the way she shifted her weight between her legs.

Pearl continued, “You rest up, Connie. You deserve it.” She turned and made her way to the temple doors.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Connie said, turning to be able to still face Pearl.

Pearl gave her one last smile then walked through the temple doors. Connie immediately fell to her knees and laughed.

“Connie!” Steven shouted as he rushed by her side. He reached out to put his arm around her but left it hovering in the air near her. “Are you okay?”

She spoke through her giggles. “I’m fine. Just really, _really_ tired.” She took a deep breath and laughed again. “That was the hardest I’ve ever worked in my life!”

He looked her over. “We could watch tv if you want to rest.”

She looked at him, her lips twisted. “That sounds kinda boring though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Can you stand?”

“Of course,” she scoffed and then stood up slowly with shaky legs.

He frowned at her legs then smiled up at her. “Tv doesn’t sound boring to me.”

She sighed, looking down at her wobbly knees. Her eyes darted up at him, and she asked hopefully, “Really?”

“I love tv!” he said, raising his hands in the air.

“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said, but her shoulders relaxed.

The pair crept to the stairs.  She raised up her leg slowly.

“Oooh,” she said then started giggling. “My legs feel like jello!”

She brought her other leg up with another mumble. She paused then stepped on the next stair with another exclamation.

She laughed, but watching her struggle made Steven’s stomach feel uneasy. He stepped up beside her and offered quickly, stumbling over his words with a flush, “I could carry you, if you need – ”

“No,” she interrupted, holding out her hand to stop him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.”

“I understand,” he chuckled, trying to play off his slight embarrassment. “Just – whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” she said then looked down at the stair in front of her. She placed her hovering hand on his shoulder, and she took on the next stair.

He smiled to himself, looking down at her shoes, happy to help her.

They reached his room, and she shuffled quickly to his bed and flung herself onto it, giggling. “Mmmm, your bed feels like a cloud.”

He giggled, too, as he walked to the tv and turned it on. He picked up the remote off the ground and sat on the bed’s edge, since Connie’s diagonally outstretched body took up most of the space. He asked, “What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled into the mattress. She sighed, “Whatever you want to watch.”

He began flipping through the channels. After a go around without much luck, he looked back at Connie to ask her opinion.

She looked at him with her face propped up by her chin. Her eyes then glanced around, placing emphasis on her words, “This seems so boring.”

“What?” He laughed. He didn’t understand why watching tv together this time could be different from the other times.

She shrugged and kept her eyes away from him. “I don’t know. I guess I just feel bad that you waited to hang out and now we can’t do anything fun.”

He opened his mouth to tell her _this_ is _fun_ , but she spoke first, her eyebrows furrowing, “How can we make this fun?”

He opened his mouth wider to try again, but she beat him a second time. She propped herself up with her arms and gasped, her eyes big and smile wide, “We can make a blanket fort!”

He jumped off from the bed, his open mouth forming an open grin. He loved her idea so much, he had nothing to say.

Their eyes locked with determination.

“Get the chairs?” Connie asked.

He started running as he said, “There are blankets in the closet!”

He shuffled down the steps and raced toward the chairs against the kitchen counter. He picked up one and then the second with his other hand, and then he went back to his bedroom at his fastest pace.

She still stood at the closet, but a large red fleece blanket laid on his bed. She called back, standing on her tip toes, “I don’t see any more blankets.”

He came up from behind her, putting a hand on his chin and scanning the closet. “Hmm,” he muttered, then asked her, “Is it the second Saturday of the month?”

Her eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Yeah.”

He snapped his fingers. “It’s Laundry Day. Pearl probably started a load earlier.”

Connie looked back at the solo blanket. “One should work, right?”

“We’ll make it work!”

A pushed bed, two chairs set up adjacent, and a blanket thrown over them and held taught by books on a shelf made more of a poorly constructed tent than a fort. He looked at it disappointed, a finger placed to his lip in thought. Connie had wanted this blanket fort, and he felt a twinge of sadness when he couldn’t deliver what she truly deserved, the greatest blanket fort in the world – or at least a fort that looked less like a concaving, red ceiling. She in contrast crawled into the bed, like a cat readying itself for an afternoon nap, and flopped on her stomach and sighed into the comforter.

“This is nice,” she said.

“You like this?” He asked, backing up onto the bed less gracefully than she now that her body took up half the space.

She nodded into the bed and mumbled, “Yeah. I think this makes this more special.” She shuffled quickly, propping herself up to look at him, now frowning, “You don’t like it?”

His eyes glanced up at the blanket draping dangerously close to his head then to the tv and then to her. He smiled, propping his cheek on his hand to look at her comfortably. “No, I do. This is more special.”

With a contented smile, she flopped her face back to the comforter.

He flipped through the channels, clicking the button on the remote slowly, both of their eyes glazing over as they searched for something interesting to watch. They decided on a law show, _Bury the Books_ , that had the same producers as that of _Under the Knife_.

“I haven’t tried it yet,” Connie said. “It didn’t really feel like my cup of tea.”

“It’s gotta be good though,” Steven said, thinking back to how much they loved _Under the Knife._

The episode was already mid-way through its second scene, after they had missed the opener and the theme. Steven’s eyes narrowed in concentration, his chin rested on his hands, and he leaned his body as forward as comfortably possible. But by the first commercial break, all he had deciphered was that the male protagonist was named Bill, the lady on trial supposedly hit something (with her car?), and the two leads were romantically-involved-they-just-didn’t-know-it-yet.

“I don’t think I get what’s going on,” Steven said, muting the tv, then turned his head to face her.

She was sleeping, her cheek against the comforter and her chin down. She laid on her stomach with her arms sprawled out but with one ankle on top of the other. Her hair draped across her back loosely, some strands framing her cheek and neck.

He put his fingers to his lips to keep his giggle from waking her. He looked down at her affectionately, thinking, _wow, she really is tired,_ and decided to let her sleep as he pass the time with the show.

The forty-minute episode finished with Steven more or less understanding its plot. He had more questions than clarity, and he wished he had Connie, who was much more keen to that sort of thing, to help him, but any side glance at her sleeping form made him grin.

The next episode started, and he watched it with as much attention as he could muster. But the hour ended with Steven more confused than the previous hour, and he held his face in his hands.

He looked over at her sleeping form, a slight blush flirting his cheeks. He looked over her calm face, her cheeks pink and lips slightly parted. Her long hair covered her back like a blanket.

He remembered how soft her hair felt, and he reached out his hand to grace her hair. He stopped, hand hovering over her. His stomach dropped with the thought that it felt wrong to touch her when she slept. She couldn’t say no or even shake his hand off, she couldn’t say yes or giggle if she slept.

He started to bring his hand back when Connie’s cell phone rang. He knew it came from her bag, and he lunged quickly to answer it before it woke up Connie. A small grunt escaped her lips at his movement, and he looked at her nervously. He moved quicker, and he put the phone to his eat.

“Hello?” He whispered. He remembered his phone manners, and he quickly tacked on, “This is Steven Universe answering the phone of Connie Maheswaran.”

“Steven? Where’s Connie?”

“Oh, hi, Dr. Maheswaran. She’s napping. She had a pretty big day training.”

“Napping – _where?_ ”

 “On my bed.” He scratched his eyebrow and couldn’t understand why Dr. Maheswaran sounded so panicked.

“Where are you?”

“On my bed, too.” He understood then. “At a very _respectable_ distance, ma’am.” Just to make it truer, he shuffled to the edge of the bed and as far away from Connie as possible.

She paused. “Will you tell Connie that my shift ended early, so I’ll be there to pick her up in forty minutes?”

“Yes, ma’am. I will.”

“Thank you, Steven.”

“You’re welcome.”

As the call ended, he looked Connie over and frowned. He didn’t want to wake her up, she looked so peaceful. She needed her rest, too.

But forty minutes would come sooner than expected, and maybe she would need those forty minutes to do something, he didn’t know.

He awkwardly scooted back to his spot beside her. He laid on his side, his head propped up by his hand.

“Connie,” he whispered.

With no response, he placed his hand on her back, on her hair, to wake her.

“Connie,” he said a little louder. “It’s time to wake up.”

She drew a deep breath and then groaned.

He giggled at her protest.

She shuffled around, rolling on her side and moving toward him. She curled up, putting her face into his chest and took a deep breath.

He froze, his face flushing deep red. “C-c-connie. It’s time to – get up?”

“I don’t wanna get up,” she mumbled into him. “You’re comfy.”

He liked the feeling: the butterflies, the tingling fingertips, the flushed face. His hand firmed up on her back, as if he thought about pulling her in closer.

His hand then loosened, and it trailed down her hair. “Connie.”

She shook her head against him.

“Your mom called. She said she’s coming to get you soon.”

She rolled out of his embrace and sat up. She rubbed her eyes. “How soon?”

“Forty minutes.”

She snorted, flopping back on her stomach. “You could have let me sleep longer.”

He smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay – wait, how long was I sleeping?”

“Two hours, maybe? Your mom’s picking you up early.”

“Oh.” She stretched out her body, letting out a groan, then rolled on her side to match him. “Sorry I slept so long. This was probably the most boring hang out ever.”

“It’s okay, I understand. You needed to rest.”

“I’ll make it up to you next time.”

He grinned.

After a moment of silence, she laid on her stomach, folded her arms together and rested her chin. “I told Pearl about the paper.”

He leaned closer. “Yeah? You…you told her what you said about her?”

“No,” she said then sighed. “I guess I should have. I just don’t know if it’s something she wants to hear. I, _hmm_ , I told her I wrote about her, and that I didn’t use her name.” She giggled, “She liked that I referred to her as a knight.”

He giggled with her then asked, “What did she say?”

“She said that I probably should have asked first, which she’s right about. But she was happy that I told her, and she said it was good that I kept thing anonymous. Either way,” she chuckled, “I learned my lesson.”

He couldn’t explain it, but it then felt like a pressing weight was lifted from his mind. After a moment, he said, “I’m happy you did that.”

“Me, too.”

After a pause, she rolled over on her back. “This was nice,” she said, raising her arm to graze the red blanket.

He followed suit, flipping onto his back, and rested his head against his folded arms.

She continued, giggling, letting her arm fall, “Next time I won’t sleep.”

“Hmm, and next time, we’ll make an even bigger fort. With-with extra rooms! And hallways – !”

“We can create paths!” She added. “We can make a path to the kitchen! To the living room!”

“We can have a secret door with a password!”

“And only those who know the password will be allowed in.”

As their giggling died down, he unfolded his arms and let them fall to his side. He sighed contently then said, “This was nice, though.”

Her hand found his. She let the back of her hand gently touch the back of his.

He turned his head to look at her, watched her breath out, “Yeah.”


	6. "I will always be there to protect you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie have their skills tested.

**A/N:** First I want to say how sorry I am for making you all wait for an update! School work likes to take up all my time! And unfortunately it takes precedent. But this project means so much to me, so I'm not giving up on it! And I hope you guys are willing to stick with me. You've all been great so far, so thank you! For everything!

On a little more serious note, this U.S. election and its result has had me pretty shaken up. I want to let you all know that I care about you, and that I am by your side if you ever feel marginalized. Your voice matters, _you_ matter! I'm also here if you ever want to talk. You can message me here, and I check my tumblr regularly. Thank you for everything, you all have been so great to me, so I hope I can return that kindness in any way that I can.

Please enjoy this part! As always, kudos and comments are always loved. And constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Thanks again!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Steven Universe at all.

* * *

  **"I will always be there to protect you."**

* * *

 Steven’s breath hitched in his chest as his knees thumped in the sand. He looked up, wet eyebrows furrowing to keep sweat from dripping down his nose, and met Connie’s eyes.

Her chest heaved, but her shoulders were pulled back and her sword was raised upward. Her eyes narrowed. “Again.”

His throat burned, and his head fell in disappointment. He sucked in a breath, stood up, and threw his shield in hopes of surprising her, though really his aim was just exhausted.

She deflected his shield, her sword sending it down the beach, and she lunged in offense. He brought up a new shield to protect himself, and he pushed back as she did. She leaned down, and his arms slinked inward; but, with a gust of energy, he sent her flying back, and she hit the sand.

She jumped up. “Again.”

“Connie,” he said, chest heaving, throat burning, limbs aching, “I think I’m all practiced out.”

“No,” she shook her head to show her disagreement. “We’re not ready.”

He looked out at the violet sky of twilight. “We’ve been fighting for hours. We need to rest.”

“One more!” She snapped then softened her eyes. “Please.”

His shoulders slumped, and he dug his toes into the cool sand. He took a deep breath, stepped a foot out to widen his stance, and gave her a nod.

She raised her sword and scrunched up her nose. She waited to strike.

She lunged.

He counted on her striking with might, so he planted his feet and produced a large shield to protect his head. Instead, she went with speed, and she rolled her momentum from the middle of the shield to its edge, and she hit it up with full force.

He knew, with energy and speed, he could have produced a second shield or maybe a bubble, but in the moment he wasn’t fast enough: she pointed the sword at his chest, and he raised his arms in defeat.

She locked her eyes on him, trance still focused on the fight. But with her chest heaving, she lowered her sword. He took this to mean she was actually agreeing to their decision, and he thumped down on the sand, threw out his arms, and lay out on the beach.

He closed his eyes. He felt the sand sticking to the sweat on his arms. The cold sand on his neck and the gentle wind from the ocean worked to cool him down. He synced his breathing in line with the waves.

She sat down near him, shuffling the sand about her as she swung her legs out and buried her feet in the sand. Her shirt was colored with sweat, her French braid – the new technique she had just taught herself – was dismantled, strands fallen out and blowing with the breeze. She rubbed back a strand away from her face, leaving sand sticking to her temple, and she continued her focus on the sand.

“You did well today, Connie,” he complimented.

She shifted, sitting crossed legged, and absently drew in the sand. “I could have done better – but, thank you. You did well, too.”

“Thanks,” he said, smirking. But without a change from her face, he sat up and asked, “Are you worried about our test tomorrow?”

“A little,” she drew out slowly and quietly as she shuffled around again, pulling her knees up.

“Why? Pearl’s tested our skills before.”

“I just want to do well,” she said as her eyes focused out on the waves.

“Oh,” he said, following her gaze to watch the waters himself. He smiled at the calming sight. “Well, you will. You’re steadily improving,” he recited the line he most often heard Pearl tell her.

Her lips twitched at a soft smile. After a moment of internal debate, she took a deep breath and told him all at once, “And Pearl said if I do well tomorrow she would take me to the Armory and let me pick out a set of armor.”

When he didn’t respond right away, she looked over at him. His grin was wide, and he threw out his arms.

“Connie! That’s incredible! Gee, no wonder you were pushing practice today.”

“Yeah,” she giggled sheepishly.

He put a finger to his chin. “You’ve been wanting a set of armor for a while now…”

“Just in case,” she defended in worry of her request sounding too demanding. “It’ll protect me well in missions, since I’m not as invincible as a Gem.”

He gasped, moving his hand to his cheek. “Maybe then you’ll get to go on more missions with us!”

She sucked in her breath, looking up at the violet sky, “That’d be great.” She added quickly, “It’d give me more practice, too. It’s always good to be out in the field.”

“M-hmm, m-hmm,” he nodded. He stuck out his finger, “Well, as your best friend and fighting partner, I want you to do extremely well.”

“Thanks.”

“That is why I prescribe to you rest. Relax, take some breaths – you’ve been training all day! You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

She mumbled from the side of her mouth, “You’re right.”

He fell on his back, sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled with a grin. “Lay down. Relax.”

She lay down beside him. While his eyes were closed, she looked up at the sky. She asked him, “Did Pearl promise you anything if you did well?”

“I’m only two Pearl points away from a water gun. I’ve had my sights set on that beauty for some time now. So basically, tomorrow is pretty crucial for the both of us.”

 

 

The fog was new. At least for his training, it was – he had seen Pearl employ the limited vision technique to Connie’s first test, the one he had interrupted to fight with her. Since then, Pearl had retired the technique – until this test, that is.

He understood why, of course – both he and Connie were practically masters in their own right, and the test needed to be difficult enough for Pearl to know where their skills were at. That’s what she said the purpose of the test was, her new teaching style encouraging, “There is no such thing as failing here! I just need to examine where you currently are so I know where to take you next.”

For Steven, he thought it was a water gun, but for Connie it was a set of armor and maybe even more invites to the field.

They started on opposite sides of the arena. Pearl said this wasn’t a Stevonnie test, though that test would happen at some point. She wanted to see how they flourished on their own at first, then see how they fought together separate from fusion. Garnet and Amethyst sat in the bleachers, Garnet showing her Steven and Connie sign and Amethyst munching on popcorn.

He locked eyes with Connie from across the arena. Her eyes were glared in focus, but her mouth grinned with determination. He nodded, and she nodded back.

Pearl twirled from the edge of the arena. “And, begin!”

With their first steps forward, fog floated onto the area and obstructed their vision.

Steven drew his shield, and he tiptoed across the tile, keeping his ears perked for sounds of Holo-Pearls.

He heard a _ching!_ And he flung up his shield to protect himself right as a Holo-Pearl leapt from the fog and brought down her sword. He used his strength to push his shield, and he sent the hologram into the air to disintegrate.

He nodded at his work well done then focused once again on listening. He stepped about, paused to listen, then stepped again. He scanned every direction.

From a distance, Connie was grunting and swashbuckling her sword, defeating her own adversaries.

He summoned his shield, waiting and listening. He felt a breeze against his neck, so he turned around and threw out his shield. It hit the Holo-Pearl lunging at him, and it evaporated.

From the corner of his eye, he saw two Holo-Pearls leaping toward him, and he created a new shield and threw it out. It sliced them, and the holograms disappeared.

The fog about him dispatched with his movement, and he saw Connie sword fighting with a Holo-Pearl. He allowed himself to smile as he watched her lead. But a Holo-Pearl approached behind her, and she didn’t notice.

He was sprinting before he told his legs to move. He felt the moment in slow motion as he couldn’t bring his feet to move fast enough. He heard his heart beating in his eardrums above the sound of his huffing breath calling _Connie_. He saw her step forward and thrust her sword into the Holo-Pearl as the hologram behind her threw up its sword.

He didn’t think, and he didn’t have a plan. He just threw his body into hers, clutching her body against his chest.

“Steven,” she whispered in her ear as she realized he was buried in her neck. Her sword dropped, and her arms wrapped around his body as they fell to the ground.

And with a thump to the ground, Stevonnie stood up and threw a shield at the approaching Holo-Pearl.

 _We’re Stevonnie,_ a thought floated through them as the fusion looked down at their palms.

 _Thank you_ , Connie thought to Steven, recognizing the threat they had defeated.

 _I’ll always be there to protect you,_ he thought to her, and Stevonnie smiled at their hands.

The fog parted, and Pearl approached them with a finger on her chin.

Stevonnie fell apart, Connie landing on her knees and Steven landing on his back.

“Did we fail?” Connie asked, looking up at Pearl with wide eyes.

“Of course not, Connie!” Pearl said, crossing her arms. “There is no failing here. You’ve defeated all the Holo-Pearls.”

Steven sat up, crossed his legs, and muttered more to himself than to anyone, “We fused.”

“That’s okay, Steven,” Pearl said, figuring he had addressed her. “In a real battle, fusion of course is a valuable option, one that should also be considered then in practice.”

There was a moment of quiet. Pearl put her finger back on her chin, as if mulling something over. Connie stood up slowly, keeping her eyes on the ground, thinking, _I’ve failed, I won’t get armor._ Steven stared at his shoes as he replayed running into Connie, remembered her pressure against him as he held her, re-felt her hot breath in his ear as she whispered his name.

Pearl noted the silence and threw up her hands. “Come! Let’s go rest with some cookies and milk!”

“Food!” Amethyst shouted from the bleachers and took off to the warp pad.

Pearl walked in that direction, at first a slight skip in her step to encourage Steven and Connie to be as excited, yet her shoulders straightened and her hand returned to her chin. Connie followed, head downcast, and rubbed her arm to calm herself.

After a moment, she turned back to see Steven was just then standing up. She waited for him to catch up with her, slowly as he did, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just – thinking. Not bad! Just, I,” he caught sight of Garnet standing by the bleachers with her arms crossed, “give me a sec? Go on without me.”

“Oh. Okay,” she followed his eyes to Garnet then jogged to catch up with Pearl and Amethyst.

By the time the three had disappeared down the steps, Steven was looking up at Garnet. He wondered if she knew what he was thinking.

“Good work today, Steven.”

“Thanks.”

She started walking in the direction of the warp pad, and he followed. But with each of her long steps, he realized he needed to ask her quickly.

“Garnet,” he took her hand to stop her, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know if you saw or not, but Connie and I fused.”

“I saw. We had pretty good seats.”

He smiled in response, then his worried frown returned. “I was just wondering what it means?”

Garnet stroked her chin. “Hmm. I think it means Connie is really important.”

“I mean,” he said, color rising in his cheeks. “what does this mean for Connie and me? We…isn’t that how Ruby and Sapphire fused for the first time?”

“Something like that, yes,” she bent down to his height. “But what this means is up to you and Connie.”

He twiddled his fingers. “Can’t your future vision tell me? Don’t you see something?”

“Oh, I see lots of things. But you know they’re just paths, you decide which one you, and Connie, want to take.”

He sighed then nodded slowly.

She stood up and placed her hand affectionately on his head. “Come on, let’s get you to those cookies.”

When they warped back to the house, Pearl was criticizing Amethyst for eating all the cookies. Steven sat at the counter beside Connie.

“Here,” she said, placing two cookies in front of him. She poured milk in a glass and put it beside the cookies as she said, “I saved you some.”

He thanked her then watched as she took a bite from a cookie. She patted her lips with a napkin.

“Pearl said I can get armor.”

“That’s great!”

She pursed her lips. “She said it’s for my protection – which isn’t exactly the way I wanted it, but I’ll take it. I’m still excited. Oh! How are you doing?” Her eyes motioned back toward the warp pad, but actually farther beyond to the Ruins. She took a gulp of her milk, leaving a milk mustache that she quickly patted away with the napkin.

He grinned, and, feeling his face flush, he looked down at the two cookies she gave him. “Yeah, I’m okay now. I’ll tell you all about it later. Tell me what set of armor you’re thinking about getting.”


	7. "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven prepares an Indian dish for Connie.

**A/N:** Wow...has it really been four months? I can't believe it! I'm so sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy this chapter. This one is a little on the short side, but it's a two-parter, and the next chapter will be posted in a week! And present tense this time - I found it helped with the writer's block, so I hope you enjoy the change in tense. I also did a little research for this one - so a further in depth author's note will be at the end!

As always, thanks so much for reading! I love kudos and comments - and constructive criticism!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

  **"I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”**

* * *

Connie exits the house and spots Steven sitting out on the beach. He has set out a blanket, and he finishes putting a shoe on a corner to keep the blanket from bunching up with the light wind.

She pauses on the porch just to watch him. He takes two plates out of the picnic basket and sets them. He sets the picnic with napkins and utensils to pin them down, and he puts out two wine glasses. When he finishes, he peaks once more into the wicker basket, then he sits back and twiddles his thumbs.

She looks out at the sunset, the way the orange rays reflect against the water, and she sighs, contented, to herself. She looks back at Steven, who has since turned to face her, and he waves.

She waves back. She makes her way down the steps and down the beach, and she can feel her wet, just recently showered hair soaking into her sweatshirt. But, as she moves, she gets a whiff of her clean skin and hair, and she’s happy she took the time to shower after training and before Steven and she would spend a picnic together and before the meteor shower began.

  She sits down on the blanket, and he is beaming.

He says, “I have prepared an Indian delicacy.”

She is surprised, but now she understands his thrill to prepare a picnic and his outright ban of her to go anywhere near the fridge or cupboards.

He first displays the drink: a two liter of sprite, as he says, “I thought this was the classy choice. It looks classier in wine glasses, too.”

“I agree,” she says, and she holds out her cup for him to pour then keeps his own cup steady for him.

Next comes the naan bread, still in its plastic store-bought wrap and with its price sticker. She unwraps the bread and places a piece on each plate as he pulls out a lidded pot.

“Ta-da!” He calls as he lifts off the lid. “Butter chicken!”

It doesn’t really look the same as when her mom prepares it, but Connie claps her hands and grins anyway. She knows the recipe calls for the preparation of the dish to begin a day before, and she feels her face get warm at the thought of the time he went into this.

He ladles the chicken and sauce onto her plate and then fixes his own. She asks him why this dish, and he mumbles his confession that it was the only delicacy he could pronounce.

When he finishes fixing the plates, he instinctively picks up his fork to use, but she has already ripped off a piece of naan and has used it as a spoon to scoop up the sauce and a small piece of chicken.

He drops his fork quickly, accidentally clanging it against his plate, and rips off a piece of naan to be at the same place she is.

She has her bite, and she isn’t quite sure how she feels about it. It tastes a lot sweeter than she expected. She notes how it isn’t disgusting or terrible, it’s just…wrong.

She rips up another piece of naan and sticks it in her mouth to rid of the sweet taste. Meanwhile, he gulps down his soda with tear-brimmed eyes and red cheeks.

She can’t believe it. “Is it too spicy for you?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice comes out raspy, “it’s perfect.”

 _Perfect_ isn’t the word she would use to describe the dish. She takes another piece of naan and asks him how he prepared the meal.

She finds out his mistakes after that. He mistakenly used vanilla yogurt instead of plain. He mixed together multiple online recipes instead of using just one. And, when he put the ingredients together, he used a cooking video mostly in Hindi.

He puts his hands on his knees and looks down. “It’s not good, is it?”

“No, it is!” She says quickly, and, just as quickly, she tears the bread and scoops up the chicken - but she puts too much in her mouth. She tries her best not to grimace.

“You can be honest with me,” he says bluntly.

She sighs. Her hair is mostly dry by now, and it blows into her face. She wants to hide behind her strands and lie to him again. Instead, because she knows he’s right, she keeps her eyes low and shakes her head.

He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Her head snaps up. She reaches out her hand to drape it over his. “Don’t be!”

He shrugs his shoulders as he looks out at the lowering sun. “I just wanted to make you something nice and, I don’t know, embrace your culture. Now I just feel like I screwed everything up.”

“No, Steven. The fact that you put all this time and energy into this, it means the world to me.”

“Yeah?” He looks into her eyes, his own eyes gleaming with hope.

“Yeah,” she nods. She lingers her hand for only a moment before rightfully and respectfully bringing it back to herself.

He gasps. “Next time, I’ll try another dish! Something _really_ spicy!”

She giggles to herself. “I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

She locks her eyes with his as she speaks, so that he is certain she is only teasing. He chuckles for a moment, and she is relieved that he understands her playfulness, but soon his lips purse in thought, and she wonders if he’s lingering on _I love you a lot._ She wonders if she’s made a mistake with reciting the words now, so casually –

His stomach growls. He puts his hands on his stomach and grins. “I’ll ask dad to bring us a pizza.”

* * *

  **A/N:** Okay. Here it goes:

-I know there's a theory that in the SU universe, India may be called Dhawar (based on the plane in "Steven Floats") - but since this hasn't been stated specifically in canon, I used India for clarity's sake.

-I also know that they'd have different soda names in the universe, but I just went with our names, again, for clarity's sake.

-Maybe Pearl collects wine glasses, I don't know. I just know that when I was a kid, drinking chocolate milk out of a wine glass was _so cool_ , that I wanted these children to experience it. Maybe Garnet likes to relax with a bottle of wine, idk. Your headcanon.

-I had the _hardest_ time trying to figure out where the Maheswarans come from! Their last name is Hindi, which is a language typically spoken in North India - but it can also be a Tamil surname, a language usually spoken in South India, and Connie's training outfit is based on a martial arts style in the South. So I went with butter chicken, who's Hindi name is murgh makhani, but it's known as butter chicken. It is a North Indian food - SO if I was incorrect in this, _please_ let me know! I can change it!

-ALSO every recipe for butter chicken I found was different! I went with ones that used yogurt. Also, I did find a video instruction mostly in Hindi! So I gave Steven my experiences on that one lol. SO if I did any of this wrong - please let me know!

-I'm not actually sure if Connie is eating it correctly. I saw that it is often prepared with naan bread, and I saw pictures of the dish, and so I just used my head. If this is wrong, please please please don't hesitate to tell me!

-And, once again, don't hesitate to correct me! Thanks for reading.


	8. "The stars look especially lovely tonight."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The stars look especially lovely tonight." Steven and Connie watch a meteor shower.

**A/N:** Whoa! What is this? An update...at a decent time??? Hahaha, yes, believe it or not! I've also got the next one cooking, so keep your fingers crossed I can continue to update consistently!

**So this chapter is a continuation of the last one.** Again, the style is present tense like the last one - no real intention there other than it helped my writers block! Feel free to let me know what you think.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, I  _love_  comments and kudos - and constructive criticism! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

  **"The stars look especially lovely tonight."**

* * *

 A pizza box sits in the sand, lid open and contents only two pizza crusts. Picnic basket is held taught with small mounds of sand, its lid open and filled with dirty plates and empty bottles of sprite and mountain dew. The picnic blanket is bunched at its corners, held down against the light breeze with a half emptied 2 liter of mountain dew and a single shoe. Greg’s van is parked in the sand, the door open, where Greg’s legs stick out of the van as he sleeps.

Steven and Connie run from the waves as they creep up the shore. The hems of their pants are rolled up, but Steven’s are wet from his attempts at jumping over any waves that come further up the shore. When the water retreats, they chase it down, and, when it returns, they squeal and run away.

After they have chased the wave into retreat, Connie’s watch beeps. She pauses to look at her wrist and read the digital numbers that tell her it’s 2 am, and the water rushes in. She squeals out, arms frozen by her side, mouth opened and eyebrows raised, as the cold water engulfs her skin up to her lower calves and dampens the ends of her pantlegs.

Steven beats the wave by distance and watches Connie’s surprised face. He laughs so hard he falls to one knee, dirtying the patch with mushy, wet sand.

As the water retreats again, she waddles away, hating the feeling of wet clothing. She playfully grumbles about the texture of her pants now, and he hold his stomach laughing.

She puts her hands on his shoulders to get him to stand. She bounces around him, saying, “The meteor shower is starting!”

She takes off to the blanket, and he chases her. She falls into the blanket, sitting side-saddle and eyes already scanning the sky feverishly. He crashes down beside her, falling onto his back, giggling as he tries to sit up again, then joins her in searching for falling stars.

The wind whistles on the water, and the waves crash on the shore. Greg is snoring, and his album plays low through the van’s speakers.

Steven and Connie can’t figure out right away which direction the meteor shower is. It isn’t until they see a single comet fly by, when their hearts stop and their lungs gasp, and then a second comet after, that they lie down.

The meteors appear sporadically in the night sky. Steven and Connie are silent, the sounds of the night speaking for them. But, no matter how many comets appear, they gasp: their wonder and surprise never ceasing despite the repetitively.

Greg’s cd is still playing, and the next song _Comet_ begins. Steven giggles at the irony, and he tells Connie about it when she asks why he’s laughing. She turns her head to watch him sing along to the song.

He tells her, “That’s the song that made my mom fall in love with my dad.”

She’s still watching his lips. She says, “That’s beautiful.”

Eventually, Connie poses a question. “Can you still wish on a shooting star if it’s a shower?”

Steven doesn’t know. “We could still try.” He offers her the next star.

They wait. There is a lull in falling stars.

He says, "The stars look especially lovely tonight, even if there wasn’t a meteor shower."

She agrees. “They’re so beautiful,” she reaches her arms up to the sky, wanting to absorb their light into her fingertips.

She lets her arms fall, and her hand brushes against his. She remembers the time, under the blanket fort, when she kept the back of her hand against his. She now places her hand beside his, feeling his skin.

There is still no comet, but all she can think of is how she wishes she could be brave enough to hold his hand, to intertwine her fingers with his. She’s held his hand many times before, but she feels nervous without the fear and threats that typically encouraged them to hold hands in the first place. They were safe, holding hands now would be…different.

She sees a star flash across the sky, and she squeezes her eyes shut. She uses her wish without really thinking, _courage._

He rubs his knuckles against the back of her hand. He asks, “When do you think your wish will come true?”

She opens her eyes to look at the sky. As she inhales, she shuts her eyes again. She reaches for his hand, her fingertips grazing his skin, until her fingers are intertwined with his. When he leaves his hand in hers, she turns to look at him. He is staring up at the stars, smiling. She thinks his cheeks look redder than usual.

He says, “I’m glad you’re here, watching the stars with me.”

She giggles. He turns to look at her, and his face is so close that she takes her turn looking at the stars, her face flushing. “I’m glad my parents let me.”

At that moment, Greg snores exceptionally loud, reminding Connie of the “you need a chaperon at all times” part of the deal.

She says, looking at him, “We finally get an official best friend sleepover!”

His hand tightens around hers. She loves feeling his fingers around hers, the gentle pressure she feels against her palm.

He turns his head to look at her, and she wants to turn away to avoid blushing, but there is something about his wide, serious eyes that keeps her looking at him.

He smiles sheepishly, embarrassed, as he says, “This might sound really lame, but, Connie, I’m so glad you’re in my life. You’re my very best friend, and…I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life.”

She remembers the first day she met Steven, not too far away from where they lie now, and how, before he tackled her to the ground, she had thought she would go through life without having a single friend. Her core feels the fear again, when at the bottom of the ocean, she thought she would die, disappear, without anyone but her parents noticing. She looks at Steven now. He looks so much older somehow, despite his slow aging – wiser, maybe, and she thinks about how far their friendship has come. Her chest feels like it is swelling with love.

She is crying.

His eyes are fearful now, afraid he is the source of her sadness. He tightens his grip on her hand. He then shifts his body in attempt to get up, to reach out to her.

She doesn’t give him the chance to take anything back, she won’t let him, and she lets go of his hand. She tackles him down, much like the first time they met, but this time with a hug.

Her body pressing into his, her arms are wrapped around his shoulders, and her face buries into his neck.

He is frozen at first, but he feels her hot tears on his neck, her soft hair on his cheek, and he reaches his arms out to wrap around her lower back.

She starts to giggle in his ear, and he’s relieved to know she isn’t sad.

She quickly pushes herself up from him, sitting up and wiping her face. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I – ”

“It’s okay,” he says as he sits up.

She laughs to brush off her embarrassment. “I guess it’s just nice to hear those kind of things sometimes.”

He nods, understanding, when suddenly the cd in the van starts skipping. It awakes Greg, grunting and mumbling. He asks if the meteor shower is almost over, and Connie, looking at her watch, tells him it is.

Greg pushes himself to stand. “I think it’s time to take the party inside now.”

And the second they get into the house, Greg crashes onto the couch, instantly asleep.

Steven offers his bed to Connie, to which she wants to refuse. He insists and won’t allow her to give it up. She offers a solution: splitting the night into shifts. She can sleep in the bed the first half of the night, and he can sleep in the bed the second.

They have been resting for some time, she in the bed, and he on the floor, when she crawls down the bed to look over at him.

“Steven,” she whispers, “I don’t like you sleeping on the floor. What if you slept at the end of the bed?”

He doesn’t mind the floor, despite the hard surface, but he knows the new plan would allow her to stay in the bed the whole night. He takes his blanket and crawls up onto the end of the bed, sleeping horizontally at its end while Connie goes back under the covers to sleep vertically.

A few minutes pass, his eyes begin to get heavy, when she crawls down to see him again.

“Steven?”

He opens his eyes.

She apologizes. “I know you’re trying to sleep. I just wanted to say you’re my best friend, too. And that you mean the world to me.”

He smiles. “You mean the world to me, too, Connie.”

She beams so much, her smile is open, that she just stays there a moment, staring down at him. The feeling returns, like hot chocolate filling up her stomach or her lungs filling up with air. Her cheeks get warm with pre-action, then she leans down and kisses his cheek.

“Goodnight, Steven,” she says quickly as she shuffles back to her side of the bed. She bundles the blankets around her to hide her blushing cheeks and her gushing smile.


	9. "I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before." Steven gets a vision of his future.

**A/N:** Sorry about the lack of update! Since this one is on the shorter side, I'm trying to get the next one out soon!

If you're feeling like you need more Connverse, check out my tumblr! I wrote some drabbles/oneshots that were requested! And more will be on the way!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

"I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before."

* * *

 Steven wakes up from a nightmare.

His room is dark, with only the low light of stars and a quarter moon coming in from the window. His yellow pajamas are sticking to his sweaty skin. He pulls at his collar to peel it away from his neck. His hand stays at his throat, feeling his heighten pulse beat on his neck. He brings his hand down to his chest, feels his heart pounding and feels his chest filling and deflating rapidly.

His vision is blurred with tears, and he rubs at his eyes. His fingers feel the trail on his cheeks as new tears roll down. His breath hiccups, and he looks around.

Garnet approaches. Without thinking, he lifts his arms up, like a child asking for his mother to hold him, and she complies. She holds him in her arms and sits on his bed.

He typically hates his smallness, but now he relishes in his size, as his body is completely incased in Garnet’s strong embrace. He thinks it ironic, just for a moment, that Garnet, known for her strength and power and might, is holding him tenderly, gently.

But his brain goes back to his nightmare, and he pulls himself deeper into Garnet’s embrace to push out the thoughts. He mumbles into her, “I had a nightmare.”

“You’re safe here, Steven,” is all she says, but, as always, she seems to know that is exactly what he needs to hear.

Slowly, he calms down. His tears stop, his heartbeat levels, and he can breathe again. But he doesn’t want Garnet to leave him. Now, though he feels better, he fears feeling the fear of the nightmare again.

Garnet seems to know. “I’m going to stay right here until you fall asleep.”

He nods, so she sets him down on the bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. She leans down, gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead, then sits at the end of the bed.

She says, “Focus on your breathing.”

He obeys. In the darkness, with his eyes closed, he feels his chest lift then feels it lower. It seems like only a moment has passed, as suddenly he opens his eyes and it’s light out.

The living room. He’s on the couch. He feels bigger – taller, maybe. Definitely not as small. He feels a tickle on his neck – it’s his hair! It’s long now.

He feels weight in his crossed arms, and he looks down to see a baby. She’s swaddled, sleeping, a full head of dark hair but still so small.

He can’t stop looking at her: her rosy cheeks, her thick eyebrows, her twitching lip. He feels his mouth open, widen, into a large smile, so large his cheeks hurt, and he hears a laugh beside him then a hand on his back. He gets a kiss on his head but he can’t stop looking at the baby in his arms.

The baby fusses and twists in her blanket. Her eyes squeeze shut before they open.

His voice catches in his throat as he stares into the big, bright, brown eyes that stare directly into his.

Suddenly he’s crying happy tears, though he doesn’t notice until he feels salt on his lips, but he can’t stop looking at her eyes.

He feels the hand on his back move in circles, comforting him. Lips press against his ear as a voice whispers, “Look at her eyes.”

The voice sounds familiar, and he’s positive he knows the owner, but in the moment he can’t place it. But he replies light an airy voice, “I can’t stop looking at them. I’ve never seen such gorgeous eyes before.”

The voice giggles into his ear and says, “I could look at her forever.”

He agrees. He thinks about looking at the person beside him with the familiar voice, smile at them, but the thought of looking away from the baby and her big brown eyes, even for a moment, isn’t what he wants. So he keeps looking at the baby in his arms, and he can’t stop smiling, and the hand on his back continues to circle, and he feels so happy, easily one of the happiest moments in his whole life.

He awakes in the morning, happy. He rubs his eyes as sunlight pours into the window, and he looks around for Garnet.

She comes through the temple door, and he pushes off his covers and runs to her. He tells her all about the dream he had, about how different he felt, about the baby in his arms, and about her brown eyes.

And as he speaks, he realizes that the voice sounded a little like Connie’s, but he leaves that part out of the story, and he doesn’t realize that Garnet reads him like a book and hides her knowing smiling.

 


	10. "May I have this dance?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "May I have this dance?" Steven and Connie go to the school dance.

**A/N:** This chapter took longer than I expected - sorry about that! Hopefully you like it. Personally, this turned out to be one of my favorites - so I would love to know what you all think! Kudos are great, and comments help a ton! Thanks!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Steven Universe.

* * *

 "May I have this dance?"

* * *

 “Hey, Sour Cream!” Steven called out. He saw Sour Cream across the street, in his drive way, messing around with his turntable.

Sour Cream waved Steven over.

Steven asked, “What’chu up to?”

“I got my first paid gig this weekend! So I’m just messing around, figuring out my set list.”

“Congratulations! Where are you playing? Maybe I could come see you!”

“It’s, uh,” Sour Cream said, blushing, “it’s at the middle school. It’s um – ” he sighed, “it’s just for a middle school dance.”

“That’s great!” Steven exclaimed, not knowing why Sour Cream might be embarrassed. “You’re such a gifted deejay, they’ll love you!”

Sour Cream was blushing from the compliment now. “Thanks, Steven.”

Steven opened his mouth to give Sour Cream more compliments when he thought over what Sour Cream had just said. He closed his mouth in perplexity then asked, “You said the middle school? For a dance?”

“Yeah,” Sour Cream replied, “I don’t think it’s for any special occasion either. Just like, under the sea themed or something.”

“ _The_ Middle School?” Steven asked again. “A dance?”

“Stop,” said Sour Cream, “you’re starting to make me question everything.”

“Sorry! Just wanted to make sure. Thanks, Sour Cream, and good luck! Maybe I’ll be there to cheer you on!” Steven said as he walked away.

“Thanks, Steven! I could use a man like you in the crowd!” Sour Cream said, waving goodbye.

Once Steven was further down the road and out of Sour Cream’s earshot, he called Connie on his cell phone.

“Hey, Steven!” Connie exclaimed, sounding surprised but excited that he was calling.

“Hi, Connie, how are you?” He asked.

She replied through the phone, “I’m good! How are you?”

“Good,” he said, then decided to cut to the chase. “I was just talking to Sour Cream, and he told me he’s deejaying a middle school dance?”

He stayed quiet as he waited for her response.

She sighed. “I was going to tell you about that.”

“Connie, I’m not upset,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure _you_ were going!”

He knew from the night they first fused how much she had wanted to go to her school’s last dance and hadn’t just because of nerves and anxiety. He wanted to make sure she didn’t repeat her mistake, especially since he knew how much she _really_ wanted to go – and, if need be, offer his services in attending with her.

He said, “I know you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

“I,” she started then paused.

By now, Steven had made it to the beach. He walked to the shoreline and slipped off his shoes.

She answered as he put his feet in the water: “I was going to ask you to go with me, I just couldn’t figure out how.”

He smiled, and he opened his mouth to tell her he would be honored, no, thrilled to go with her, but she was elaborating: “I thought about just texting you, or just asking you when I was over for training. But then I thought maybe I should do something special and huge – so I was going to take us to the place on the beach where we first fused, and I was going to play that song you played when you asked me to dance and – I don’t know, it was really windy the last time I came over, and I guess after that I thought maybe that was _too_ big, and I just – ”

She stopped herself and sighed. “I know this isn’t the ideal way to ask, and I know it’s kind of last minute, but, uh, would you like to go to the dance with me, Ste – ”

“Yes!” He answered, laughing. He kicked up his leg and splashed the ocean water.

“Really?” She sounded surprised, breathy. Then determined: “I gotta go, Steven. I need to ask my mom if she can take me to the mall tomorrow. I’ll tell you what color my dress is so we can match – if you want to – ”

“Sounds great!” He replied then heard the beep that the call had ended. He looked down at his phone, reading over _Connie_ and thinking about spending that night with her.

 

 

Steven _really_ wanted to wear the pink shirt Connie got him for his birthday. He loved the shirt so much, but he found he rarely had a special enough occasion to wear it, so it hung in his closet more than he’d like it to. He wanted to wear it so much that he thought about calling Connie and asking her to wear pink, since even he knew that, for some reason, people who went to school dances together color coordinated, and, well, he himself was pretty excited about the custom and couldn’t wait to match with her, whatever the color she ended up choosing. That was part of the fun, he thought, the surprise of the color.

So when she told him her dress was yellow, bright yellow, she said, like a sunflower or a lemon, he was ecstatic, despite yellow being a color he typically avoided – save for his signature banana pajamas he enjoyed for comfort – because of how the color clashed with his skin tone.

“We,” Connie said over the phone, and she even sounded like she was blushing, “got you a shirt, too. It’s just like the pink shirt I got you for your birthday, only it has yellow on it – I hope that’s okay.”

It was more than okay, he said, thinking about how much he loved the pink shirt and now he had a _second_ shirt from her to love.

The night of the dance, Steven waited for Connie in the living room, and the Gems waited in the kitchen like gushing parents trying not to embarrass him. He heard her footsteps creak up the wooden deck, and he stood up from the couch. He could feel his stomach starting to fill with butterflies in anticipation. His fingers clasped together, and he concentrated on each step that clicked until it all stopped, and Connie threw open the screen door with her mother Priyanka behind her, shouting, “I’m here!”

She giggled, and he couldn’t breathe. Her dress was as bright as she said, yellow like the sun, and made of lace with sleeves that went to her wrists and a hemline that rested just above her knees. The front of her hair was pinned back with butterfly clips, and the rest hung on her back in loose curls.

She started walking toward him, and his heart thumped so much he felt it in his neck.

“You look very nice, Connie,” Garnet said, making Connie pause and turn toward the Gems.

Pearl and Amethyst agreed.

Connie ducked her head and grinned. “Thanks so much. That means a lot coming from you all.”

Their exchange gave Steven a moment to collect himself. He took a deep breath to slow down his heart. He stepped toward her, determined to compliment her, too, but all that came out was a breathy, “Yeah.”

She smiled at him, and he could feel his heart beating uncontrollably again. 

It wasn’t until she was right in front of him, saying, “Here,” that he noticed the things in her hands. She gave him a clothing bag as she said, “I hope you like it.”

He took the shirt out of the bag and gasped. He held it up to his chest, seeing how it fit and looking over the design: a white shirt with big yellow polka dots. “I _love_ it!”

He took a step away, ready to run to the bathroom to change, when she held out a pink flower.

He stared at it with wide eyes as warmth filled his chest.

She said, “Heteronormativity dictates that I shouldn’t be giving you this flower, but when I saw it, it made me think of you.”

It took a while for his hand to work, to reach out to take the flower from Connie, as the warmth grew to his cheeks. He brought the flower close to his face, to look at it more closely, to smell its fragrance.

He finally said, “I love it.”

He would have kept staring at the flower if Pearl hadn’t offered to put it in water while he changed. He agreed then went into the bathroom. He changed into the new shirt that fit him and his khakis. He brushed his teeth again, reapplied deodorant just in case, and made sure his hair was behaving appropriately. He almost left the bathroom without applying his cologne – the cologne his father had given him for Connie’s violin recital, the scent she said she liked and asked him to wear again – but ran back to the mirror to pull it from the shelf and spray it on his skin.

“I’m ready!” He called as he rounded the corner from the bathroom.

Pearl was taking pictures of Connie on her smartphone. Pearl moved about, angling herself high and low to get the best picture, while Priyanka suggested stances for Connie to use. Connie, looking slightly awkward and uncomfortable, still smiled. But when she noticed Steven, her smile grew naturally, and she called for him to stand by her.

It felt weird to pose and force wide smiles as the Gems and Priyanka stared, but, he admitted to himself, he was happy to have pictures of him and Connie. They stood shoulder to shoulder.

Pearl suggested, “Put your arms around each other.”

Connie and Steven froze then looked at one another nervously. But she reached out her arm first and wrapped it around his shoulders, since she was slightly taller. He put his arm behind her, letting it hover away from her back before he let his arm cup around her lower back. The lace scratched against arm, and her hair tickled his ear as she leaned her face to squish against his, and he knew his smile captured on the pictures would be his most genuine smile.

Eventually, though, through Pearl’s constant picture-taking, Connie playfully whined, “That _has_ to be enough pictures!”

Pearl gave Connie back her phone, Priyanka told Garnet that Steven should be home before eleven, and Amethyst, winking, told Steven to have fun but not too much fun.

Steven, Connie, and Priyanka got into the car and drove to the school. On the ride there, he listened to Connie read off the school dance’s flier. Her voice blended well with the orchestra music playing low in the background. The swell of violins matched when she joked about the dance’s theme of “under the sea.” The horns blew as she giggled. He heard a single violin as he stared at her lips, pink and glossy, in the dark of the car.

He was so concentrated on her that he was surprised when the car braked and the music disappeared and Priyanka said, “Greg will pick you two up at 10. Don’t be late for him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Connie said, already taking off her seatbelt.

He realized he should be doing the same, and he unclicked his seatbelt.

Priyanka continued. “You know the drill. Be on your best behavior. Say no to drugs and alcohol. Listen to the chaperones.”

Her eyes glared a little more seriously next, “Don’t leave the _vision_ of the chaperons.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Connie said, blushing.

Priyanka reached out and put her hand on Connie’s knee. “And have fun.”

 

 

Steven and Connie stepped out of the car and waved to Priyanka as she drove away. The pair walked toward the school’s gym entrance, and as they grew closer to the doors, the sound of music grew louder. Boys and girls walked toward the dance around Steven and Connie, and, as the pair got closer, Connie stopped.

“Connie?” Steven asked, walking back to stand in front of her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” she started with her head ducked and her voice small, “…nervous.”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he said.

She looked up at him.

“What makes you nervous?” He asked.

At the sound of a group of teens passing by, Connie paused, and, when she did speak, her voice was low, “People staring at me.”

“Well,” he said, “does it make you nervous when I stare at you?”

She looked in his eyes. His heartbeat quickened again.

She said, “No.”

“Okay, so,” he reached out for her hand and held it up to his chest, “just stare at me. If you just stare at me, and I just stare at you, then you won’t even notice anyone else.”

She opened her mouth to protest, and her eyes darted to the side at more kids passing by them, and then she looked at the gym doors.

“Hey,” he said, putting his other hand to hold onto hers, “just look at me. And breathe.”

She obeyed, locking her eyes with his. He stared into her brown eyes as her shoulders rose in deep breaths.

“Okay,” she said at last, “I think I’m ready to go in.”

“Great,” he said, still clutching onto her hands, and began to walk backwards.

“Steven?” She said with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t look at me if I’m beside you,” he stated, but she stopped him by pulling his hands toward her.

She said, “I’ll be okay.”

He looked her over, and, judging that she was telling the truth, he stepped beside her. He started to loosen his grip on her hand, thinking that she probably didn’t want to hold his hand anymore, but her hand latched tightly onto his.

As they walked into the gym, hand-in-hand, he was blushing, thinking about how she wanted to hold his hand just as much as he wanted to hold hers.

 

 

They stepped into the gym, decorated mediocrely with blue decorations and balloons, with a few pin-up sea creatures on the wall for the theme. But the lights were dimmed and the snack table was long, and children seemed happy enough, especially Steven, who’s eyes grew wide as he was ecstatic to partake in a new segment of human culture.

He looked at Connie to read her emotions, and she looked just as happy as he was.

He would have been content just standing there, in the entrance, looking at the decorations and looking at Connie, but as someone brushed against him on their way in, Steven asked Connie, “What should we do first?”

“Oh,” she said, eyes scanning the gym, “we could do whatever. We could look around the gym if you’d like? So we get a feel.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he nodded, and the pair lapped around the gym, holding hands. They looked at the sea creature cut-outs taped on the walls, the tables with blue tablecloths and bowls of sand, the snacks on the snack table—that didn’t really go with the sea theme but instead were things like pretzels and chips with dip—and the open space for the dance floor where Sour Cream played the tunes at his table.

Steven waved at Sour Cream from his turntable, and Sour Cream grinned widely and nodded back.

When Steven looked back at Connie, she was staring at him intensely. Her fierce gaze made his cheeks get warm, and he looked away, momentarily, before looking back.

“Sorry,” she whispered, eyes still locked, “I just started to get nervous again.”

“It’s okay,” he said, “you can keep staring at me. I like it.”

He thought maybe the words sounded funny out loud, so he quickly asked, “What would you like to do? Eat? Dance?”

“Uh,” she sounded nervous over the word _dance,_ “do you want to say hi to Sour Cream?”

“I do, but I don’t want to interrupt him. Maybe he needs to focus. When he takes a break, we should talk to him.”

She nodded. “I was excited when I heard he was playing. I remember really liking his mix when we went to his rave together.”

Thinking about their first formation of Stevonnie always made him feel warm in his chest (when he purposefully ignored the whole _Kevin_ thing).

“Connie!”

Steven recognized the girl running up to Connie as the blond-haired girl who sat at Connie’s lunch table.

“You better join us on the dance floor!” She said.

Connie, looking shy, but smiling widely, said, “Okay.”

The girl noticed Steven. “I remember you. Was it…Steve?”

“Yeah!” He said. “Well, it’s Steven, but that’s pretty close!”

“Grace,” she said, putting a hand on her chest. She waved goodbye to the couple and joined her friends on the dance floor.

“We could join them,” suggested Steven.

Connie said, “We can. Um, maybe we should get some punch or something first? You know – have the whole middle school dance experience.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

 

 

It was quite easy to have the whole “middle school dance experience,” Steven found. After all, just _being_ there was part of the experience. They were in a gym with tacky decorations and sweaty pre-teens.

Connie and Steven got their punch, their cups of pretzels, and they stood off in the corner. She told him about the people there, pointed out which teachers were her favorite and her least favorite. She pointed out the principal. She admitted she didn’t know her peers too well, just kind of knew their faces – she pointed out the kid who sprayed her with water from the water fountain, the guy who slacked off on their group project and made Connie do it all, the kid who made fun of her nose when he thought she couldn’t hear him – and it took everything in Steven not to march to each kid and tell them off.

When she noticed his rising anger, she pointed out the nicer kids: the girl who lent her a pair of gym shorts when she forgot hers as at home, the guy who explained mitosis to her, and all the girls who let Connie sit at the same table as them.

But after all that, they had already experienced everything about a middle school dance except the dance part.

He didn’t want to pressure her, so he waited quietly as she sipped her punch. But he knew she was drinking it slowly on purpose – and he _knew_ she wanted to dance. He couldn’t forget the words she said to him, on the beach, the night they fused, how excited she was to go – to _dance!_ – and her anxiety had just gotten the better of her.

Not tonight.

So he stepped out in front of her, held out his hand, and asked, “Will you dance with me?”

She looked down at the cup of punch in her hand. She spoke quietly – he needed to take a step toward her to hear her – and she said, “I’m just so scared.”

He took her hand. He stepped close to her, close enough for him to lean his lips near her ear. He wanted to make sure she heard each word he said, “It’s okay to be scared. But don’t let your fear stop you.”

He reminded her of all the things she had accomplished despite fear: fighting off the robot that spat fire, saving him from falling after Lapis returned the ocean, dancing as Stevonnie, learning to sword fight, fighting a monster in the hospital, racing Kevin, fighting monsters, fighting Jasper, fighting Topaz, see, he said, she’s always been brave.

And she took a deep breath, smiled at Steven, then nodded.

At first, they walked together, side by side, hand in hand, to the dance floor. But as they stepped into the crowd, Steven led them in.

She was breathing in and out, in and out, standing still. He danced around her, moved his hands high and low, jumped up and down.

“Just dance with me,” he said. He took her hands again. He continued to jump in time with the song, and he moved his arms toward her then away from her, and slowly, eventually, Connie began to dance along with him.

The song blended into the next, a song with an even quicker tempo, and Steven dropped her hands to spin, jump, and throw his arm in the air, all while squinting his eyes and pursing his lips to make Connie laugh.

And laugh she did; it rose above the music as she threw back her head and squeezed her eyes shut. It felt so good, to hear her laugh, that he felt his stomach flutter.

He shouted over the music, “Let me see your best move.”

“My best move?” She teased.

“Your _best_ move.”

“All right,” she said, taking a step away from him to give herself space, “but I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

He raised his eyebrow to her challenge, but she wasn’t looking. She flipped her hair and spun around with her arms outstretched – and hit a kid beside her. He glared at her, and she stepped away from him quickly.

“Sorry!” She exclaimed as she moved back to Steven. Her hands clasped together against her chest and her head was slightly bowed.

They stood close together, so close, Steven realized, that he just needed to take a step forward to be pressed against her.

He smiled. “You beat me.”

It took her a moment, but then she let out a laugh and shook her head. She took his hands. He began to move their arms, just a little, as their dance.

The song changed, one that was still upbeat, but slower than the previous, and he took the opportunity to spin her.

She moved out as she spun around, but, as she faced him again, she moved into him. She came in quickly, her body brushed against his for a moment before she took the smallest of steps away. She put her hand on his chest to stop herself and left her other hand in his.

He froze.

With rosy cheeks and a shy smile, she began to sway with the music, and he echoed her movements.

She was happy, comfortable, dancing with him. She was smiling, giggling, blushing, and seeing her happy made him relax, dance with her. He felt a warmth in his chest, where her hand was resting, and the feeling moved down to his stomach –

His gem.

He reacted quickly, without thinking, and he pushed himself from Connie forcefully. Her hands dropped, thudding against her body, as Steven’s hands moved around his body to make sure he had pulled away in time.

After he breathed in relief, he looked up and noticed her: the hurt look on her face.

He moved quickly to her, to explain, “we were about to fuse.”

She understood then. She nodded.

The pair stood awkwardly, motionless on the dance floor.

He looked around, “I’m sorry, Connie. I…I don’t mean to ruin your dance – ”

“Ruin it?” She asked, then laughed in disbelief. “You’re _making_ it.”

“But…but we can’t dance, and – ”

She smiled mischievously. “Come with me.”

As she led him off the dance floor, holding his hand, she whispered to him, “we have to be like spies.”

His eyes lit up, and he nodded.

When they got to the doors, she dropped his hand.

They waited for the teacher stationed at the door to be distracted with grilling another pair looking to leave the gym, and they exited the doors. Connie took him down the hall until she found a classroom that wasn’t locked and led them inside.

“It’s,” she said slowly, looking over the classroom that smelled like whiteboard markers and was littered with desks out of their rows, “not the same kind of feel, but it’ll work.”

They paused, standing in front of one another, in the dimly lit room.

He said, “if you listen hard, you can kind of hear the music.”

She listened. “Oh, yeah, I hear it. It – kind of sounds like a slower song.”

Knowing that a slow song usually meant _slow_ dancing, he looked at her sheepishly, “Is that a problem?”

She took a step toward him. “Nope.”

“Then,” he said, putting out his right hand for her to take, “may I have this dance?”

She nodded, taking his hand, and she placed her left hand on his shoulder, and he gingerly put his hand on her lower back. They swayed together to the faint rhythm the best they could, often straining to hear it through the walls, pausing to make sure they were swaying in time and together.

“Are you having fun?” he asked after he had paused yet again to keep on beat.

“I’m,” she said, bowing her head shyly then looking into his eyes, “I’m have the best time, so…thank you.”

“For what?”

She smiled. She stopped swaying to stare into his eyes as she said, “For making this the best time.”

They stood, smiling at one another, as the music thumped in the background, in the dark of the classroom, with their hands sending warmth into one another. But, soon, their smiles began to fade away, and he licked his lips without realizing he was doing so, and she was leaning her face forward slowly, and he closed his eyes and waited –

When the door opened and the light turned on and a teacher was shouting at them that they were in trouble, that they were calling their parents, and that they were leaving _immediately._

They were stunned into silence and compliance as they were led to the office and told to wait for their ride.

The car ride was just as silent as Priyanka drove them with her hands clenched on the steering wheel.

Connie tried once, speaking up, “It wasn’t —”

Priyanka glared from the rearview mirror, and Connie was silent.

She was sent to her room, and Steven sat on the couch to wait for his dad to pick him up. It felt like forever, sitting alone and in silence, until he got the text that his dad was outside.

He looked around, unsure if he was supposed to just leave or let Priyanka know he was leaving. So he called out for anyone to hear, “Uh, my ride’s here.”

After no reply, he stepped outside. He stepped off the porch and toward the van when the door opened behind him. He turned around to see Connie peaking her body from the doorframe.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Connie whispered, “and tell you not to worry. When my mom is calm, I’ll tell her everything. We…might have to introduce her to Stevonnie, but that’s fine. We needed to show her anyway. Might as well be now.”

She was still wearing her yellow dress, and her curled hair looked more wavy now as it draped over her shoulder.

He took a step toward her, closer to the door, but that was all he could do. There was so much he wanted to say: _I’m sorry, you’re beautiful, I’ll smell the flower you gave me the second I get home, I had a great time tonight, I don’t ever want to take this shirt you gave me off, thanks for taking me, I want to kiss you,_ but all of the words jumbled on his tongue and wouldn’t let go. His lips parted, but no sound came out, as he just stared at her.

She seemed to understand, smiling, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, “Goodnight, Steven.”

She shut the door slowly, keeping her eyes locked with his for as long as possible until the door was shut between them.

He walked sluggishly to the van and unloaded the details of the night when his dad asked him what happened, about how they had to step away so Stevonnie wouldn’t cause a scene, but he did leave out the moment when they almost kissed.

Greg just chuckled to himself, “Does that mean though that you two had a nice time?”

Steven looked out the window, watching the streetlights glare against the glass. He said yes. 


End file.
